not possibly lunch with you to-day," replied Sluss, "and I cannot
see you, either. There are a number of things pressing for my
attention. I must say also that I cannot hold any back-room
conferences with you or your emissaries. If you come you must submit
to the presence of others."

"Very well, Mr. Sluss," replied Cowperwood, cheerfully. "I will not
come to your office. But unless you come to mine before five o'clock
this afternoon you will face by noon to-morrow a suit for breach of
promise, and your letters to Mrs. Brandon will be given to the public.
I wish to remind you that an election is coming on, and that Chicago
favors a mayor who is privately moral as well as publicly so. Good
morning."

Mr. Cowperwood hung up his telephone receiver with a click, and Mr.
Sluss sensibly and visibly stiffened and paled. Mrs. Brandon! The
charming, lovable, discreet Mrs. Brandon who had so ungenerously left
him! Why should she be thinking of suing him for breach of promise, and
how did his letter to her come to be in Cowperwood's hands? Good
heavens--those mushy letters! His wife! His children! His church and
the owlish pastor thereof! Chicago! And its conventional, moral,
religious atmosphere! Come to think of it, Mrs. Brandon had scarcely if
ever written him a note of any kind. He did not even know her history.

At the thought of Mrs. Sluss--her hard, cold, blue eyes--Mr. Sluss
arose, tall and distrait, and ran his hand through his hair. He walked
to the window, snapping his thumb and middle finger and looking eagerly
at the floor. He thought of the telephone switchboard just outside his
private office, and wondered whether his secretary, a handsome young
Presbyterian girl, had been listening, as usual. Oh, this sad, sad
world! If the North Side ever learned of this--Hand, the newspapers,
young MacDonald--would they protect him? They would not. Would they
run him for mayor again? Never! Could the public be induced to vote for
him with all the churches fulminating against private immorality,
hypocrites, and whited sepulchers? Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord! And he was so
very, very much respected and looked up to--that was the worst of it
all. This terrible demon Cowperwood had descended on him, and he had
thought himself so secure. He had not even been civil to Cowperwood.
What if the latter chose to avenge the discourtesy?

Mr. Sluss went back to his chair, but he could not sit in it. He went
for his coat, took it down,