little fool, I ought to
kill you. If you wanted a cheap revenge, you've got it."

"I don't want revenge, Lou."

He caught her by the arm.

"Then what brought you here?"

"I wanted to be sure Lily Cardew was married."

"Well, she is. What about it?"

"That's all."

"That's not all. What about it?"

She looked up at him gravely.

"Because, if she is, I am going to marry Mr. Cameron tomorrow." At the
sight of his astounded face she went on hastily: "He knows, Lou, and he
offered anyhow."

"And what," he said slowly, "has my wife to do with that?"

"I wanted to be fair to him. And I think he is--I think he used to be
terribly in love with her."

Quite apart from his increasing fear of Willy Cameron and his Committee,
there had been in Akers for some time a latent jealousy of him. In a
flash he saw the room at the Saint Elmo, and a cold-eyed man inside the
doorway. The humiliation of that scene had never left him, of his own
maudlin inadequacy, of hearing from beyond a closed and locked door, the
closing of another door behind Lily and the man who had taken her away
from him. A mad anger and jealousy made him suddenly reckless.

"So," he said, "he is terribly in love with my wife, and he intends to
marry you. That's--interesting. Because, my sweet child, he's got a damn
poor chance of marrying you, or anybody."

"Lou!"

"Listen," he said deliberately. "Men who stick their heads into the
lion's jaws are apt to lose them. Our young friend Cameron has done
that. I'll change the figure. When a man tries to stop a great machine
by putting his impudent fingers into the cog wheels, the man's a fool.
He may lose his hand, or he may lose his life."

Fortunately for Edith he moved on that speech to the side table, and
mixed himself a highball. It gave her a moment to summon her scattered
wits, to decide on a plan of action. Her early training on the streets,
her recent months of deceit, helped her now. If he had expected any
outburst from her it did not come.

"If you mean that he is in danger, I don't believe it."

"All right, old girl. I've told you."

But the whiskey restored his equilibrium again.

"That is," he added slowly, "I've warned you. You'd better warn him.
He's doing his best to get into trouble."

She knew him well, saw the craftiness come back into his eyes, and met
it with equal strategy.

"I'll tell him," she said, moving toward the door. "You haven't scared
me for a minute and you won'