u can't be like a man with such a name as--Michael Varcoe!
Tell them who we are."

"My name is Nelson Smith," said her official husband. "My wife is
not----"

"Your wife!" repeated the man standing opposite Annesley. He stared with
insolent incredulity. "'Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Smith.' A good name to
take."

"It happens to have been given me." Slight sharpness broke the tolerance
of Smith's tone.

"I don't believe you!" exclaimed the other.

Smith's black brows drew together. "It doesn't matter whether you believe
or not," he said. "What does matter is that you should annoy us. I tell
you I'm not Michael Varcoe, and never heard the name. If you're not
satisfied, and if you don't go back to your dinner and let us finish ours
in peace, I'll appeal to the management."

"Well!" grumbled the taller of the pair. "If you're not the man I want,
you're his image--minus moustache and beard. You _must_ be Varcoe!"

"Of course he's Varcoe," insisted the other.

"Of course he's not!" said Annesley, with just the right amount of
irritation. "Our name is Smith. Nelson, do tell this--person to ask the
head-waiter who engaged the table, and not stay here making a fuss."

"Anybody can engage a table in the name of Smith!" sneered the first
speaker. "That is nothing. We go by something more convincing than a
name. There are countries where men have been arrested on less
resemblance--or put out of the way."

"Oh, Nelson, he's frightening me," faltered Annesley. "He must have lost
his senses."

"You think that, do you?" The fierce eyes fixed her with a stare. "You
tell me--_you_, madame, that you are this man's wife?"

"I do tell you so," the girl replied, firmly, "though I don't see that
it's your affair! Now go away."

"Very well, we take your word," returned the man, in a tone which said
that he did nothing of the sort. "And we go--back to our table, to let
you finish your meal, Mr. and Mrs. Smith."

His black glance sprang like a tarantula from her face to her
companion's, then to his friend's. The latter accepted the ultimatum and
followed in sulky silence; but when the pair were seated at their own
table, though they ordered food and wine, their attention was still for
the alleged Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

Annesley tried to ignore the fact that they stared without ceasing, but
she could not help being aware of their eyes. She felt faint, and
everything in the room whirled giddily.

"Drink some champagne," said Smith's qui