ind its back it is too high-bred to
notice.

Loftus, unable to parade Marie about, paraded her in. To the aviary he
brought men, some of whom having otherwise nothing to do with this
drama need not delay its recital, but, among others, he brought
Annandale and Orr.

Annandale, who could not keep a thing from Sylvia, told her about it.
The story so shocked her that she first made a point of his not going
there again and then debated whether she ought to recognize Loftus any
more. In the process she confided the story to Fanny Price, who got
suddenly red--a phenomenon rare with her and which annoyed her very
much, so much that she bit her lip, desisting only through fear of
making it bleed. What is the use of spoiling one's looks?

Marie, meanwhile, rather liked Annandale. She also rather liked Orr.
One evening both were bidden to the aviary. At the bidding Annandale
had hesitated. He did not wish to offend Sylvia. But reflecting that
she need never know, that, anyway, it was none of her business and,
besides, what the deuce! he was not tied to her apron strings, was he?
he concluded to go.

To that conclusion he was assisted by a cocktail. At the time he was
in Madison Square, where on a ground floor he occupied a set of
chambers, a suite of long, large rooms, sumptuously but soberly
furnished with things massive and plain. Here he lived in much luxury
and entire peace, save recently when he had lost a retainer and found
a burglar. The memory of that intrusion recurring, he touched a bell.

A man appeared, smug and solemn, a new valet that he had got in to
replace an old family servant whom an accident had eliminated.

"Harris, I forgot to ask. Did you get the revolver I told you to buy?"

"Yes, sir. A 32 calibre. It is in the pantry, sir."

"Put it in the drawer of my dressing-table."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"And Harris, make me another cocktail." As the man was leaving
Annandale called after him, "Make two."

It was these that assisted Annandale to his decision. A man of means,
without immediate relatives, without ponderable cares, under their
influence he felt rather free to do as he saw fit. The bidding to the
aviary, telephoned for him to Harris, was for that evening. Yet that
evening he was also expected in Irving Place. But Marie's invitation
was for dinner, whereas he was not due at Sylvia's until later on.

It was not necessary, he told himself, to be in two places at once. He
could dovetail