r life.

She now realised the reason of those many secret conferences with
Carlier, and certain other rather disreputable-looking companions,
jail-birds, without a doubt. She knew why he was sometimes absent all
night, why he had stolen in, weary and worn, in the early hours of the
morning, and why, on one occasion, he had remained in the house for two
whole weeks and had never once gone out.

"Well, now you know the truth, girl, I hope you won't ask any more
inquisitive questions," Ralph said, noticing how strangely she had
stared at him. "Our business concerns nobody but ourselves--you
understand?"

"Yes, I understand," she replied, slowly, in a strange, hard voice. "I
understand, too, Ralph, that you no longer love me, or you would never
have spoken to me as you have to-night."

And she burst into tears.

"Ralph, Ralph, this is too bad!" protested his friend. "You ought to
have a little pity for poor madame--you really ought."

"I tell you I don't want any interference in my domestic affairs, so
shut up, or you and I won't agree. Do you hear that--once and for all?"
replied Ansell determinedly, thrusting his bony face into that of this
companion.

The latter shrugged his shoulders, and merely remarked:

"Well, you surprise me greatly."

Of a sudden, however, Jean, with a quick movement, sprang towards her
husband, who had already put on his coat and cap, and placed the
revolver in his pocket preparatory to departing upon his midnight
adventure. She seized him by both wrists and, throwing herself wildly
upon her knees, begged and implored him not to go.

"For my sake, Ralph, don't go!" she urged. "Don't go! Give up the
project! Work and lead an honest life, I beg of you."

"Honest life!" he laughed with a sneer. "Can you imagine me sitting in
an office all day, adding up figures, or writing letters for some other
thief with a brass plate on his office door? No, I'm not cut out for
that, I assure you," he added.

"But for my sake, don't go," she urged again, his hands still in hers,
for she held them firmly, and placed them to her lips.

His confession that he was a thief had fallen upon her, and for the
first few moments had held her speechless, but now she had found tongue,
and even though the disgraceful truth was out, her first thought was
for his safety.

"You're a confounded little fool!" he declared, roughly. "Let me go.
Come on, Adolphe! We haven't any use for women's tears."

And he twisted