oped vaguely amidst sensations of relief and the mental
confusion with which, someway, she always filled him.

"You're--all right, aren't you? And you expected me, didn't you?"

"Yes, but--Oh, don't make me talk! Let me cry."

She was crying as she spoke, rackingly, and every sob tore his heart.
Again, as so often before, he felt dazed and helpless before the puzzle
she presented. Yet, as always, there seemed nothing to do but obey her,
since she, and not he, invariably held the key to the strange situations
in which she placed him. Her tears made him feel desperate, yet he dared
not continue to hold her hands, and he did not know what to say. Rising,
but keeping his position beside her, he waited for her to grow calmer,
and as he waited he subconsciously took in the room.

It was a big front chamber, furnished as a sitting-room. Its broad
windows, with their cushioned window-seats, faced east. Besides the
window, it had two exits, the door by which he had entered, and another
door, half open, apparently leading into a bedroom. Its comfortable
easy-chairs were covered with gay chintz, its curtains were of the same
material, its reading-table held books and newspapers, and in its big
open fireplace fat logs were blazing. Shaw "did" his prisoners well.
Laurie remembered the cigarettes, matches, and blankets so thoughtfully
provided for himself. Like Shaw's own room, the chamber breathed simple
comfort. It was impossible to take in the thought of anything sinister
in connection with it until one observed the gagged woman in the corner,
and remembered the locked door.

"Well, Princess," he said at last, still trying to speak lightly, "this
isn't much of a donjon tower, is it?"

Her sobs, hysterical and due to overwrought nerves, had given place to
occasional sharp catches of the breath, like those uttered by a little
child whose "crying-spell" is almost over. She did not speak, but she
put out her hand to him, and he took it and held it closely, conscious
of a deep thrill as the small palm touched his.

"I want to talk to you," he said gently, "but I'd feel a lot more
comfortable if our chaperon were a little more remote. Can we put her
into this inner room?"

Doris nodded, and he waved the woman across the threshold of the
bedroom. She would be safe there. He had observed that the windows of
the inner room were still barred and shuttered. Seemingly, in all the
big house, this up-stairs sitting-room alone had opened