s a day? Men take me on one side and reason with me in
the club. I had a Cabinet Minister at the office this afternoon. I begin
to get the cold shoulder wherever I turn, but, damn it all, don't you
understand that we must have money?"

Josephine regarded him with a cold lack of sympathy in her face.

"I understand that you have had about a hundred thousand pounds of mine,"
she remarked.

"Like your generosity, my dear, to remind me of it," he sneered. "To you
it seems, I suppose, a great deal of money. To me--well, I am not sure
that it was fair compensation for what I have never had."

"What you have never had, you never deserved, Henry."

He flung himself towards the door.

"Josephine," he said, looking back, "do you know you are one of the few
women in the world I can't even talk to? You freeze me up every time I
try. I wonder whether the man who is so anxious to stand in my shoes--"

She was suddenly erect, her eyes flaming. He shuffled out and slammed the
door after him with a little nervous laugh.

CHAPTER XX

Josephine was herself again within a few moments of her husband's
departure. She stood perfectly still for some time, as though listening
to his departing footsteps. Then she crossed the room and pressed the
bell twice. Once more she listened. The change in her expression was
wonderful. She was expectant, eager, thrilled with the contemplation of
some imminent happening. Her vigil came suddenly to an end, as the door
was opened and closed again a little abruptly. It was no servant who had
obeyed her summons; it was Wingate who entered, unannounced and alone.

"Everything goes well?" he asked, as he advanced rapidly into the room.

"Absolutely!"

"Good! Where is your husband now?"

"Gone to his den to have a drink, I expect," she replied. "He is in a
terrible state of nerves already."

"I am afraid he will be worse before we've done with him," Wingate
remarked a little grimly. "Josephine, just one moment!"

She was in his arms and forgetfulness enfolded them. He felt the soft
cling of her body, the warm sweetness of her lips. It was she who
disengaged herself.

"I am terrified of Henry coming back," she admitted, as she moved
reluctantly away. "He is in one of his most hateful moods to-night.
Better than anything in the world he would love to make a scene."

"He shall have all the opportunity he wants presently," Wingate observed.

The door was opened with the soft abruptness of o