ierce grip of his finger nails
in his fists clinched so tight they began to cut the flesh.

A blush of shame tinged his face as he tremblingly said:

"Please, dear, let's not part like this! I've suffered enough to-day.
You're only teasing me. And I've acted like a fool. Say that you
forgive me!"

"Our engagement is at an end, Mr. Stuart," was the quiet answer.

"Nan----"

Before he could recover from the shock or utter a protest, she opened
the door and he had passed out into the night.

CHAPTER VI

THE FORGOTTEN MAN

The suddenness of his dismissal broke the strain under which Stuart had
been labouring for hours. It was ridiculous. He began to laugh at the
silliness of the whole thing--what an idiotic performance anyhow--these
lovers' quarrels! He saw the comedy of it, ate a hearty supper, and
went to bed firm in the conviction that he would see Nan again the next
day.

But the morning came with a sense of growing uncertainty. It was
raining. He would have enjoyed a storm, but it was just a drizzle with
a penetrating dampness that found the marrow of his bones. He called a
messenger and sent a note to Nan asking her to forget the ugly memory
of the night before and fulfill her promise to go to the country when
the rain ceased. If it continued to rain he would call at eight. He
told the boy to wait for an answer. The messenger returned promptly and
handed back his note unopened.

Of course she was bluffing. She knew she had the whip hand for the
moment and meant to use it.

"Well, two can play this game," he muttered. "We'll see who wins!"

He turned to his work with grim resolution.

For two weeks the battle between pride and love raged in silence. Each
day he rose with the hope of some sign from Nan, and each day hope died
in a more desperate and sullen despair. At last he began to question
the wisdom of his course. Should he not fight his battle at closer
range? What if he were in reality engaged in a mortal combat with
Bivens's millions for Nan's soul and body! The idea was too hideous to
be thinkable. In his anger he had accused her of flirting with Bivens,
but in his heart he didn't believe it. The personality of the little
money-grubber made the idea preposterous. He was not only frail,
insignificant, and unattractive physically, but he had personal habits
which were offensive to Nan's feelings of refinement. His excessive use
of tobacco was one thing he knew she could not tolerate. Toba