"I do. Any man would. You were in a hurry. You hoped, you said, that things might be fixed up for the wedding in an hour--or less. I fixed things up. We were married. Now I don't get my money. Consequently I consider myself free of any obligations concerned with the bargain. Though I'm willing to take legal opinion on the point, if you like?" "A nice figure you'd cut if you did!" exploded Severance. "I should say, 'the woman--or the earl--tempted me, and I did eat.' I ate by request. And I'm entitled to a core to my apple. There isn't any core. So I have the right either to chuck the peel away and let it fall in the mud, or else to hang on to it, and make up the best way I can for what lacks." "I should like to kill you, Garth," said Severance. "Well, when we're both safely out of my wife's dressing-room and this theatre, I'll give you a chance to try." The lids over the dark, Greek eyes flickered slightly. Between the two men was a memory, a picture: a room at the Belmore Hotel, with a table and some chairs overturned: a few spots of blood on a lavender tie: not the tie of Garth. "Being out of her theatre wouldn't save Miss Sorel from scandal if we made fools of ourselves," Tony said. "That's the sensible view," agreed Garth. "I'm at your service for war or peace. But the fact remains that I am Marise Sorel's husband, and as I'm not paid for taking on the job, you, Severance, have no concern with my conduct to her. The rest is between my wife and myself. If she wishes me to leave her I will do so now, at this moment--on my own terms. If she wishes me to stay by her side for appearance' sake, I'll stay--also on my own terms." "What are your terms?" Tony's dry lips formed the words almost without sound. "They'll be settled to-night between my wife and me. You have nothing whatever to do with them." "If--if you fail in respect for her, you never get your million dollars when the time comes!" Severance almost sobbed. "When the time comes--the time can decide," said Garth. "Miss Sorel!" bawled the call-boy at the door. CHAPTER XX THE BRIDAL SUITE It was, as Severance told himself, the damnedest scrape! And he could see no present way out of it. Turn as he would, he was merely running round and round in a "vicious circle." He couldn't murder Garth, or otherwise eliminate him, without setting fire to his dearest hopes, and seeing his fortune go up in a blaze. Garth mustn't be allowed to walk away from Marise, leaving her in the position of a deserted bride, after a sensational wedding. Nor could Severance bear to think of the man's remaining near her, now that he proclaimed the bargain "off," and himself free and independent.