nsion of
nostrils and a paling of cheek.

"Or what?" demanded Lane.

"Or I'll do to you what you did to me."

"Oh, you'd kiss me to shut my lips?"

"Yes, I would."

"Fine, Mel. Come on. But you'd have to keep steadily busy all evening.
For I've come to talk." Mel came closer to him, with a catch in her
breathing, a loving radiance in her eyes. "Daren, you're strange--not
like your old self. You're too gay--too happy. Oh, I'd be glad if you
were sincere. But you have something on your mind."

Lane knew when to unmask a battery.

"No, it's in my pocket," he flashed, and with a quick motion he tore
out the marriage license and thrust it upon her. As her dark eyes took
in the meaning of the paper, and her expression changed, Lane gazed
down upon her with a commingling of emotions.

"Oh, Daren--No--No!" she cried, in a wildness of amaze and pain.

Then Lane clasped her close, with a force too sudden to be gentle, and
with his free hand he lifted her face.

"Look here. Look at me," he said sternly. "Every time you say no or
shake your head--I'll do this."

And he kissed her twice, as he had upon his entrance.

Mel raised her head and gazed up at him, wide-eyed, open-mouthed, as
if both appalled and enthralled.

"Daren. I--I don't understand you," she said, unsteadily. "You
frighten me. Let me go--please, Daren. This is--so--so unlike you. You
insult me."

"Mel, I can't see it that way," he replied. "I'm only asking you to
come out and marry me to-night."

That galvanized her, and she tried to slip from his embrace.

"I told you no--no--no," she cried desperately.

"That's three," said Lane, and he took them mercilessly. "You will
marry me," he said sternly.

"Oh, Daren, I can't--I dare not.... Ah!--"

"You will go right now--marry me to-night."

"Please be kind, Daren.... I don't know how you--"

"Mel, where're your coat, and hat, and overshoes?" he questioned,
urgently.

"I told you--no!" she flashed, passionately.

Lane made good his threat, and this last onslaught left her spent and
white.

"You must like my kisses, Mel Iden," he said.

"I implore you--Daren"

"I implore you to marry me."

"Dear friend, listen to reason," she begged. "You don't love me.
You've just a chivalrous notion you can help me--and my boy--by giving
us your name. It's noble, Daren, thank you. But--"

"Take care," warned Lane, bending low over her. "I can make good my
word all night."

"Boy, you've gone crazy,