y and nervously to laugh,
but in his eyes, which followed George, the fear and the curiosity
increased.

"What the devil are you talking about? Have you gone out of your head?"

George smiled confidently.

"It's an invariable rule, unless you have the strength to handle them,
to give insane people their way. So you'll be nice and quiet; and I
might remind you if you started a rumpus, the first questions the
aroused house would ask would be, 'Why did Dolly fall off the wagon, and
where did he get the edge?'"

He drew a chair close to Dalrymple and sat down. The other lay back,
continuing to stare at him, quite unable to project the impression he
undoubtedly sought of contemptuous amusement.

"We've waited a long time for this little chat," George said, quietly.
"Sometimes I've hoped it wouldn't be necessary. Of course, sooner or
later, it had to be."

His manner disclosed little of his anxiety, nothing whatever of his
determination, through Dalrymple's weakness, to save Sylvia and himself,
but his will had never been stronger.

"You may as well understand," he said, "that you shan't leave this room
until you've agreed to give up any idea of this preposterous marriage
you pretend to have arranged. Perhaps you have. That makes no
difference. I'm quite satisfied its disarranging will break no hearts."

Dalrymple had a little controlled himself. George's brusque campaign had
steadied him, had hastened a reaction that gave to his eyes an unhealthy
and furtive look. He tried to grin.

"You must think you're God Almighty----"

"Let's get to business," George interrupted. "I once told you that what
you borrow you have to pay back in one way or another. This is where we
settle, and I've outlined the terms."

Dalrymple whistled.

"You complete rotter! You mean to blackmail--because you know I haven't
got your filthy money, and can't raise it in a minute."

"Never mind that," George snapped. "Your opinion of what I'm doing
doesn't interest me. I've thought it out. I know quite thoroughly what
I'm about."

He did, and he was not without distaste for his methods, nor without
realization that they might hurt him most of all with the very person
they were designed to serve; yet he couldn't hesitate, because no other
way offered.

"You're going to pay my notes, but not with money."

Dalrymple's grin exploded into a harsh sound resembling laughter.

"Are you--jealous? Do you fancy Sylvia would be affected by anythin