cheer up. You're going to have
a change. Lead on, please."

Thus urged, and further impelled, the secretary obediently led the way
to a closet at the far end of the upper hall. It was fairly commodious,
and full of garments hanging on pegs and smelling oppressively of
camphor. It afforded an electric-light fixture, and Laurie, switching on
the light, emphasized this advantage to the reluctant new occupant, who
unwisely put up a brief and losing fight on its threshold.

"You may read if you like," Laurie affably suggested, when this had been
suppressed. "I'll bring you some magazines. You may even smoke. Mr. Shaw
and I always treat our prisoners with the utmost courtesy. You don't
smoke? Excellent! Safer for the closet, and a fine stand for a worthy
young man to take. Now, I'll get the magazines for you."

He did so, and the blond secretary accepted them with a black scowl.

"I'm afraid," observed Laurie regretfully, "he has an ungrateful
nature."

He locked the door on the infuriated youth, pocketed the key, and faced
Doris, who had followed the brief procession. The little encounter had
restored his poise.

"What next?" he asked, placidly.

Her reply was in the nature of a shock.

"I'd like to have you wash up."

He raised his eyebrows.

"And spoil my admirable disguise? However, if you insist, I suppose I
can get most of the effect again with ashes, if I have to. Where's a
bath-room?"

She indicated a door, and returned to her room. He made his ablutions
slowly and very thoughtfully. There were elements in this new twist of
the situation which did not tally with any of his former hypotheses.
Doris, too, was doing some thinking on her own account. When he returned
to the sitting-room she wore the air of one who has pondered deeply and
has come to a conclusion.

"What do your friends call you?" she abruptly asked.

"All kinds of things," admitted the young man. "I wouldn't dare to
repeat some of them." Under the thoughtful regard of her red-brown eyes
his manner changed. "My sister calls me Laurie," he added soberly.

"May I?"

"By all means, if you'll promise _not_ to be a sister to me."

"Then--Laurie--"

"I like that," he interrupted.

"So do I. Laurie--I--I'm going to tell you something."

He waited, watching her; and under the renewed friendliness of his black
eyes she stopped and flushed, her own eyes dropping before his. As if to
gain time she changed her position in the chair where she s