hat I can understand without. You can consider
that we are alone. Whatever you may have to say to me, I should prefer
that Mr. Macheson also heard."

Macheson looked from one to the other uneasily.

"Shall I wait in the passage?" he asked. "I should be within call."

"Certainly not," she answered. "This person," she continued, indicating
Stephen with a scornful gesture, "is, I believe, about to make a
bungling attempt to blackmail me! I should much prefer that you were
present."

Stephen Hurd drew a sharp breath. Her words stung like whips.

"I don't know--about blackmail," he said, still holding himself in. "I
want nothing from you. I only ask to be left alone. Stop this nonsense
about Letty Foulton and let me catch my train. That's all I want."

Wilhelmina shrugged her shoulders.

"You are a very wearisome person," she declared. "Did you ever know me
to change my mind? Every word I have said to you I absolutely mean. No
more, no less!"

One of the veins at his temple was protruding. He was passionately
angry.

"You think it wise," he cried threateningly, "to make an enemy of me!"

She laughed derisively, a laugh as soft as velvet, but to him maddening.

"My dear young man," she said carelessly, "I think I should prefer you
in that capacity. I should probably see less of you."

He took a quick stride forward. He thrust his face almost into hers. She
drew back with a gesture of disgust.

"You," he cried, striking the table with his clenched fist, "to pretend
to care what becomes of any fool of a girl who chooses to take a lover!
Is it because you're in love with this would-be saint here?"

He struck the table again. He was absolutely beside himself with rage.
He seemed even to find a physical difficulty in speech. Wilhelmina
raised her eyebrows.

"Go on," she said coolly. "I am curious to hear the rest."

Macheson suddenly intervened. He stepped between the two.

"This has gone far enough," he said sternly. "Hurd, you are losing your
head. You are saying things you will be sorry for afterwards. And I
cannot allow you to speak like this to a woman--in my presence!"

"Let him go on," Wilhelmina said calmly. "I am beginning to find him
interesting."

Hurd laughed fiercely.

"What!" he cried. "You want to hear of your 'Apache' lover, the man you
took from the gutters of Paris into----"

Macheson struck him full across the mouth, but Wilhelmina caught at his
arm. She had overestimated her courage or