uld suggest that you
come with us to our suite."

I nodded. In silence we went up the elevator; in equal silence, he
leading, we passed along the corridor over carpets that gave out no
telltale sound.

She was standing by the window when we entered. Her profile stood out
clear in the shaded room, and in spite of myself a great heart-throb
passed over me. She did not move at first, but at last turning she saw
him and me. Then I could see her tremble; she started quickly to
leave, but he barred the way. The smile was still upon his face.

"Pardon me, my dear," he protested, "but certainly you recognize an
old friend."

She grew white to the lips, and her eyes blazed. Her hands pressed
together so tightly that the fingers became blue at the nails. She
looked at him; such scorn I had never seen before. Before it, the
smile slowly left his face.

"Were you the fraction of a man," she voiced slowly, icily, "you would
have stopped short of--this."

She made a motion of her hand, so slight one could scarce see it,
and without a word he stepped aside. She turned toward me and,
instinctively, I bent in courtesy, my eyes on the floor and a great
tumult in my heart. She hesitated at passing me; without looking
up I knew it; then, slowly, moved away down the corridor.

I advanced inside, closing the door behind me and snapping the lock.
Neither of us said a word; no word was needed. The fighting-blood of
each was up, and on each the square jaw that marked us both was set
hard. I stepped up within a yard of him and looked him square in the
eye. I pray God I may never be so angry again.

"What explanation have you to offer?" I asked.

His eye never wavered, though the blood left his face and lip; even
then I admired his nerve. When he spoke his voice was even and
natural.

"Nothing," he sneered. "You have lost; that's all."

Quick as thought, I threw back the taunt.

"Lost the woman, yes, thank God; the book, never. I came for that, not
for her. I demand that you turn over the copy."

Again the cool smile and the steady voice.

"You're a trifle late. I haven't a sheet; it is all gone."

"You lie!" I flung the hot words fair in his teeth.

A smile, mocking, maddening, formed upon his face.

"I told you before you had lost. The book is copyrighted"--a pause,
while the smile broadened--"copyrighted in my name, and sold."

The instinct of battle, primitive, uncontrollable, came over me and
the room turned dark. I f