dream, and we'll end like one."

"I'm going to wait a bit longer," said Westmore restlessly, "and if
there's nothing doing, it's me for the other side."

"For me, too, Jim."

"Is it a bargain?"

"Certainly.... I'd rather go under my own flag, of course.... We'll
see how this Boche backdown turns out. I don't think it will last. I
believe the Huns have been stirring up the Mexicans. It wouldn't
surprise me if they were at the bottom of the Japanese menace. But
what angers me is to think that we have received with innocent
hospitality these hundreds of thousands of Huns in America, and that
now, all over the land, this vast, acclimated nest of snakes rises
hissing at us, menacing us with their filthy fangs!"

"Thank God our police is still half Irish," growled Westmore, puffing
at his pipe. "These dirty swine might try to rush the city if war
comes while the Guard is away."

"They're doing enough damage as it is," said Barres, "with their
traitorous press, their pacifists, their agents everywhere inciting
labour to strike, teaching disorganisation, combining commercially,
directing blackmail, bomb outrages, incendiaries, and infesting the
Republic with a plague of spies----"

The studio bell rang sharply. Barres, who stood near the door, opened
it.

"Thessa!" he exclaimed, astonished and delighted.

XV

BLACKMAIL

She came in swiftly, stirring the sultry stillness of the studio with
a little breeze from her gown, faintly fragrant.

"Garry, dear!--" She gave him both her hands and looked at him; and he
saw the pink tint of excitement in her cheeks and her dark eyes
brilliant.

"Thessa, this is charming of you----"

"No! I came----" She cast a swift glance around her, beheld Westmore,
gave him one hand as he came forward.

"How do you do?" she said, almost breathlessly, plainly controlling
some inward excitement.

But Westmore retained her hand and laid the other over it.

"You _said_ you'd come to the Ritz----"

"I'm sorry.... I have been--bothered--with matters--affairs----"

"You are bothered now," he said. "If you have something to say to
Garry, I'll go about my business.... Only I'm sorry it's not your
business, too."

He released her hand and reached for the door-knob: her dark eyes were
resting on him with a strained, intent expression. On impulse she
thrust out her arm and closed the door, which he had begun to open.

"Please--Mr. Westmore.... I do want to see you. I'm trying to