ura continued busily arranging the contents of the trunk,
placing garments here, and some there, sorting them out. While she was
thus engaged, with her back to the door, the door leading to the outer
corridor opened, and Brockton appeared. He entered quietly, without
disturbing Laura, and for a minute or two stood watching her in
silence. Then, suddenly, he said:

"Going away?"

Startled, Laura jumped up and confronted him.

"Yes," she said, with some confusion.

"In somewhat of a hurry, I should say," he said dryly.

"Yes."

"What's the plan?" he inquired.

"I'm just going--that's all," she said calmly.

"Madison been here?" he asked in the same even tone.

"He's just left," she answered.

"Of course you are going with him?"

"Yes."

"West?"

"To Nevada."

"Going--er--to get married?" he demanded.

"Yes, this afternoon."

He looked at her keenly, and said significantly:

"So he didn't care then?"

Flushing, she flared up:

"What do you mean, when you say 'He didn't care'?"

"Of course you told him about the letter, and how it was burned up, and
all that sort of thing, didn't you?"

"Why, yes," she replied, averting her eyes.

"And he said it didn't make any difference?"

"He--he didn't say anything. We're just going to be married, that's
all."

"Did you mention my name, and say that we'd been--rather companionable
for the last two months?"

"I told him--you'd been--a very good friend to me."

She spoke with hesitation, at moments with difficulty, as if seeking to
gain time, to find answers for his awkward questions. But she did not
deceive him. Brockton was too much the man of the world to be easily
hoodwinked. He knew she was lying, and his face flushed with anger.

"How soon do you expect him back?" he demanded.

"Quite soon," she replied, with an effort to be calm. "I don't know
just exactly how long he'll be."

She turned her back and proceeded with her packing. He came nearer and
stood overlooking the trunk.

"And you mean to tell me that you kept your promise and told him the
truth?" he persisted.

She stammered confusedly, and then, her patience exhausted, she broke
out into open defiance.

"What business have you got to ask me that? What business have you got
to interfere, anyway?"

Rising and going to the bed in the alcove, she took the dresses and
carried them to the sofa. Brockton followed her, his fists clenched.

"Then you've lied again!" he cried furiously.