. Both
could be unscrewed and set in a hair ornament which his wife wore at
first nights or when they dined in state at Delmonico's. As he studied
Feuerstein, his face had its famous smile, made by shutting his teeth
together and drawing his puffy lips back tightly from them.

"That is all past and gone," said Feuerstein. "As a lad I was saved by
you from the consequences of boyish folly. And now, a man grown, I
come to you to enlist your aid in avenging an insult to my honor, an--"

"Be as brief as possible," cut in Loeb. "My time is much occupied.
The bald facts, please--FACTS, and BALD."

Feuerstein settled himself and prepared to relate his story as if he
were on the stage, with the orchestra playing low and sweet. "I met a
woman and loved her," he began in a deep, intense voice with a
passionate tremolo.

"A bad start," interrupted Loeb. "If you go on that way, we'll never
get anywhere. You're a frightful fakir and liar, Feuerstein. You
were, seven years ago; of course, the habit's grown on you. Speak out!
What do you want? As your lawyer, I must know things exactly as they
are."

"I ran away with a girl--the daughter of the brewer, Peter Ganser,"
said Feuerstein, sullen but terse. "And her father wouldn't receive
me--shut her up--put me out."

"And you want your wife?"

"I want revenge."

"Of course--cash. Well, Ganser's a rich man. I should say he'd give
up a good deal to get rid of YOU." Loeb gave that mirthless and
mirth-strangling smile as he accented the "you."

"He's got to give up!" said Feuerstein fiercely.

"Slowly! Slowly!" Loeb leaned forward and looked into Feuerstein's
face. "You mustn't forget."

Feuerstein's eyes shifted rapidly as he said in a false voice: "She got
a divorce years ago."

"M-m-m," said Loeb.

"Anyhow, she's away off in Russia."

"I don't want you to confess a crime you haven't come to me about,"
said Loeb, adding with peculiar emphasis: "Of course, if we KNEW you
were still married to the Mrs. Feuerstein of seven years ago we
couldn't take the present case. As it is--the best way is to bluff the
old brewer. He doesn't want publicity; neither do you. But you know
he doesn't, and he doesn't know that you love quiet."

"Ganser treated me infamously. He must sweat for it. I'm nothing if
not a good hater."

"No doubt," said Loeb dryly. "And you have rights which the law
safeguards."

"What shall I do?"

"Leave that to us. How much do you