as alone. Her hand shook uncontrollably as she
refilled a whiskey glass and rolled and smoked another cigarette. It
was no new thing, this nervous paroxysm, being nearly always the climax
to a night of exaggerated fear. The necessity for self-possession and
outward calmness in public made it a relief to let her nerves go when
alone.

"If he comes back, I'm ruined! He'll cut loose on me in public and he'll
sting; I know him well enough for that." Her hands grew clammy at the
thought. "It'll put a crimp in my practice. If it wasn't for the backin'
of Symes I'd as well pull my freight--but he hasn't come yet. It's not
likely he ever will with no word from her and this scandal comin' close
on the heels of her silence. I'm a fool to worry--to let myself get in
such a state as this."

She no longer entertained the hallucination that she might attract Van
Lennop to herself; to save herself from public exposure, should he by
any chance return, was her one thought, her only aim. And always her
hopes simmered down to the one which centred in Symes's influence in
Crowheart and his compulsory protection of herself. He dared not desert
her.

"Let him try it!" She voiced her defiant thoughts. "Let him go back on
me if he dare! If I get in a place where I've absolutely nothing to
lose--if he throws me down--Andy P. Symes and Crowheart will have food
for thought for many a day. But, pshaw! I'm rattled now; I've pulled out
before and I'll----"

A hand upon the door-knob startled her. Hastily she shoved the glass and
bottle from sight and pulled herself together.

"Oh, it's you?" Her tone was not cordial, as the Dago Duke stood before
her.

"Did you think it was your pastor," inquired that person suavely as he
sniffed the air, "come to remonstrate with you upon your intemperate
habits?"

She laughed her short, harsh laugh as she took the bottle from its
hiding-place and shoved it toward him.

"Help yourself."

She had long since learned that it was useless to pretend before the
Dago Duke. His mocking, comprehending eyes made pretence ridiculous even
to herself. She dreaded meeting him in public because of the flippant
disrespect of his manner toward her; privately she found a certain
pleasure in throwing off the cloak which hid her dark, inner-self from
Crowheart. He assumed her hypocrisy as though it were a fact too obvious
to question and she had been obliged to accept his estimate of her.

"How like you, my dear Doctor!"