This was Wednesday. She could hardly wait for Friday to come. This was the right way--to destroy the man first and then to forget him. She had been silly and sentimental and weak to fancy that she could have real peace in any other way, to imagine that she could go through life skulking, fearing. She was furious at herself when she remembered that she had asked Eleanor to avoid mentioning his name. She could mention his name now herself, and see him too. She would enjoy seeing him. She was hardly aware of the passage of time on her journey back to New York. She was living over a meeting between O'Bannon and herself after the partnership had been withdrawn. He must be made aware that it was her doing. She reached home just before dinner, and found that Miss Bennett was dining out. Good! Lydia had no objection to being alone. But Benny had arranged otherwise. She had telephoned to Eleanor, and she was coming to dine. Lydia smiled. That was pleasant too. Eleanor was an intelligent woman but not a mind reader. She saw some change had taken place in Lydia, noticed that she ate no dinner, and came to the conclusion that something had gone wrong about Evans' pardon; that Albee had been, as usual, a weak friend. When they were alone after dinner was over she prepared herself to hear the story. Instead, Lydia said, "I'm going to the opera on Friday, Nell--Samson and Delilah. Will you come with me?" There was a little pause, a slight constraint. Then Eleanor answered that she couldn't; that she had a box of her own that someone had sent her. Lydia sprang up with a sudden, short, wild laugh. "That man's going with you!" she said. "Mr. O'Bannon? Yes, he is." Eleanor thought a second. "I'll put him off, Lydia. I'll tell him not to come." "You'll do nothing of the kind. It's perfect. I don't know what got into me the other day, Eleanor. You must have despised me for such pitiful cowardice." "No, my dear," said Eleanor slowly, but obviously relieved that the question had come up again. "But I did feel that you weren't going to work the best way to get the poison of the whole thing out of your soul." Lydia laughed the same way again. "Oh, don't worry about that! I shall get rid of the poison." "How?" "I shall make him suffer. I shall revenge myself, and then forget he exists. You can tell him so if you want." Eleanor stared in front of her, blank and serious. Then she said, "I don't have many opportunities any more. I seldom see him." Lydia's eyes brightened. "Ah, you've found him out!" "On the contrary, the longer I know him the more highly I think of him. I don't see him because he's busy. He has been having a difficult time--in business. He decided to get out of politics and go into straight law. New York is like a ferocious monster to a man beginning any profession. Dan--but it doesn't matter. His troubles are over now." "Are they indeed?" said Lydia.