As the ox fears the gad-fly and the elephant the mouse, so does the
bravest of men fear the emotional entanglement of any making but his own.
For an instant Riatt felt himself swept by the frankest, wildest panic.
Misadventures among the clouds he had had many times, and had looked a
clean straight death in the face. He had never felt anything like the
terror that for an instant possessed him. Then it passed and he said with
conviction:

"Well, after all, there are certain things you can't be made to do
against your will."

"Certainly. But you are not referring to marriage, are you?"

"Yes, I was."

"My poor, dear man! As if half the marriages in the world were not made
against the wish of one party or the other."

His heart sank. "It's perfectly true," he said. "And yet one does rather
hate to run away."

"Not so much as one hates afterward to think one might have."

He laughed and she went on: "The moment is critical. Laura Ussher and
Christine have been closeted together for the better part of two hours.
Something is going to happen immediately. At any moment Laura may appear
and say with that wonderfully casual manner of hers, 'May I have a word
with you, Max?' And then you'll be lost."

"Oh, not quite as bad as that, I hope," said Riatt.

"Lost," she repeated, and leaning over she laid one polished finger tip
on the bell. "When the man comes, tell him to get you ready for that
early train."

There was complete silence between them until the footman appeared and
Riatt had given the necessary orders.

"I wonder," he said when they were again alone, "whether I shall be angry
at you for this advice, or grateful. It's a dangerous thing, you know, to
advise a man to run away."

"Dine with me in town on Wednesday, and you can tell me which it is."

"You don't seem to be much afraid of my anger."

"I think perhaps your gratitude might be the more dangerous of the two."

While he was struggling between a new-found prudence, and a natural
desire to inquire further into her meaning, a door upstairs was heard to
shut, and presently Laura Ussher came sauntering into the room.

"You're up early, Nancy," she said pleasantly.

"I thought I ought to recognize the return of the wanderers in some
way--particularly, as I hear we are to lose one of them so soon."

Mrs. Ussher glanced quickly at her cousin. "Are you leaving us, Max?"

"I'm sorry to say I've just had word that I must, and I told the man to
make arr