ime; she lived and died there. Whatever Parish did, whoever
he was, he never loved any other woman as he did that one. And by
the Lord! when it comes to that, no other woman in that town ever
was loved more than she by everybody. Odd creatures, women, eh?
Who can find them out? Who can weigh them, who can plumb their
souls? But, my God! who can do without them?"

Carlisle made no answer, and Dunwody went on. "She had political
intrigues back of her, just as this woman here has, for all I know.
But one lost in that game, and the other, won. I've often wondered
about that particular game of cards, my friend,--whether after all
she loved the man who won her, right or wrong,--what became of
her,--who she was? But now, tell me, was not our drunken friend
right? Has human nature changed since Rome? And has not the
conqueror always ruled? Have not the _spolia opima_, the rarest
prizes, always been his?"

Carlisle only sat silent, looking at him, pale now, and rigid. He
still made no comment.

"So now I say," went on Dunwody, "here is that same situation,
twice in one lifetime! It's ominous, for somebody. There is
trouble in the air, for some or all of us. But I say I offer you
fair play, even, man to man. I ask no questions. I will not take
any answers, any more than those two would have allowed any, that
day on the train there, when they played, ten years or more ago.
That was a foreign woman. So is this, I think. She is the most
beautiful woman I have ever seen. I have looked her in the face.
I shall never see such another face again. Man, I'm mad over her.
And you've just said you'd loose your hold on her, whatever it
is--for her sake. By God! once my hold was on her, she never
should get away--again."

"What do you propose?" asked the other hoarsely.

"I propose only to offer you that same game over again!" replied
Dunwody. "Man, what an uncanny thing this is! But, remember one
thing,--no matter what comes, I shall never mention our meeting
here. I am not your keeper."

"Sir," broke out the other, "you embarrass me unspeakably. You do
not know the circumstances. I can not tell--"

"Pardon me, I make no taunts, and I have said I tell no tales. But
my word of honor, man,--I will play you,--two out of three, to
see--who takes her." His voice was low, tense, savage.

The younger man sat back in his chair. One knowing his tempestuous
nature might have expected anger, consternation, resen