sitor was settled comfortably in
a big, wide-armed chair, and he took a seat opposite her.

"I don't wonder that you're feeling so," said he. "It's a sudden kind of
thing, isn't it? And do you know," there was an apologetic note in his
voice, "this is the first morning I missed looking over the paper for
months. When you had me on the telephone a while ago I knew nothing at
all about the matter."

The girl shivered a little and drew her cloak around her shoulders.

"As soon as _I_ heard of it, I knew what was to happen," she said, a
trifle bitterly. "Nora Cavanaugh, celebrity, was to be dragged further
into the light. Nora Cavanaugh, who had just opened in a successful
play--the woman whose pictures were in all the magazines--was the wife
of the murdered man! Instantly the police, who would be much better
employed seeking a solution of the crime, must hunt out and torment me
with their questions; the newspapers must suddenly go mad with a desire
to exploit my years of work and my personality as a background for a
sordid crime. My press agent, my manager, are quivering with anxiety
that no shred of publicity be lost. My very maid is subtly suggestive as
to ways in which value could be gained from the circumstances."

"Too bad!" said Bat "It's a pretty messy kind of a job. But it's the
regular thing. They are not picking specially on you." He sat looking at
her for a moment in silence. Then he added: "Anyhow, in spite of all
this, there is one thing you might be thankful for, isn't there?"

She drew in a long breath; her hands clasped tightly, and for a moment
her eyes were closed.

"You mean that Tom Burton is dead?" she whispered.

"Yes," said the man.

Again there was a silence, and this time it was broken by the girl.

"I have never thought of him as dying," she said, and there was
something like wonder in her voice. "He had gradually become settled in
my mind as a sort of incubus--I felt that I was to see him always,
smiling, immaculate and unscrupulous--a sort of beast with whom
cleanliness took the place of a soul."

"You should have divorced him," said Bat. "It would have been the
easiest way."

She shivered.

"He knew I would never do that," she answered. "He knew I was forever
set against any such thing. My religion is against it; then," she gave a
little gesture of loathing, "the actress and the divorce court had
become associated in common jest; and I made up my mind that I would not
add to its