“Indeed,” cried the man indignantly, “I will not! But I’ll be downstairs when you need me. And,” he added warningly, “you’ll need me.” “No,” said the girl. “No matter what happens, I tell you, between us, this is the end.” “Then,” begged the man, “if this is the end, for God’s sake, Vera, as my last request, do not do it!” The girl shook her head. “No,” she repeated firmly. “I’ve tried to get away from it, and each time they’ve forced me back. Now, I’ll go on with it. I’ve promised Paul, and the others. And you heard me promise that woman.” “But you didn’t mean that!” protested the man. “She insulted you; you were angry. You’re angry now, piqued--” “Mr. Winthrop,” interrupted the girl, “today you told me I was not playing the game. You told the truth. When you said this was a mean business, you were right. But”--for the first time since she had spoken her tones were shaken, uncertain--“I’ve been driven out of every other business.” She waited until her voice was again under control, and then said slowly, definitely, “and, tonight, I am going to show Mr. Hallowell the spirit of his sister.” In the eyes of Winthrop the look of pain, of disappointment, of reproach, was so keen, that the girl turned her own away. “No,” said the man gently, “you will not do that.” “You can stop my doing it tonight,” returned the girl, “but at some other time, at some other place, I will do it.” “You yourself will stop it,” said Winthrop. “You are too honest, too fine, to act such a lie. Why not be yourself?” he begged. “Why not disappoint these other people who do not know you? Why disappoint the man who knows you best, who trusts you, who believes in you--“. “You are the very one,” interrupted the girl, “who doesn’t know me. I am not fine; I am not honest. I am a charlatan and a cheat; I am all that woman called me. And that is why you can’t know me. That’s why. I told you, if you did, you would be sorry.” “I am not sorry,” said Winthrop. “You will be,” returned the girl, “before the night is over.” “On the contrary,” answered the man quietly, “I shall wait here to congratulate you--on your failure.” “I shall not fail,” said the girl. Avoiding his eyes, she turned from him and, for a moment, stood gazing before her miserably. Her lips were trembling, her eyes moist with rising tears. Then she faced him, her head raised defiantly. “I have been hounded out of every decent way of living,” she protested hysterically. “I can make thousands of dollars tonight,” she cried, “out of this one.” Winthrop looked straight into her eyes. His own were pleading, full of tenderness and pity; so eloquent with meaning that those of the girl fell before them. “That is no answer,” said the man. “You know it’s not. I tell you--you will fail.” From the hall Judge Gaylor entered noisily. Instinctively the man and girl moved nearer together, and upon the intruder Winthrop turned angrily.