divined
the occult trend of her mind toward herself.

One thing after another seemed to crowd more threateningly upon
her;--Jim's absence, Marya's attitude, and the certainty, now, that
she saw Jim;--and then the grave illness of John Estridge and her
apprehensions regarding Ilse; and the increasing difficulties of club
problems; and the brutality and hatred which were becoming daily more
noticeable in the opposition which she and Ilse were encountering.

* * * * *

After a tiresome day, Palla left a new Hostess House which she had
aided to establish, and took a Fifth Avenue bus, too weary to walk
home.

The day had been clear and sunny, and she wondered dully why it had
left with her the impression of grey skies.

Dusk came before she arrived at her house. She went into her unlighted
living room, and threw herself on the lounge, lying with eyes closed
and the back of one gloved hand across her temples.

* * * * *

When a servant came to turn up the lamp, Palla had bitten her lip till
the blood flecked her white glove. She sat up, declined to have tea,
and, after the maid had departed, she remained seated, her teeth busy
with her under lip again, her eyes fixed on space.

After a long while her eyes swerved to note the clock and what its
gilt hands indicated.

And she seemed to arrive at a conclusion, for she went to her bedroom,
drew a bath, and rang for her maid.

"I want my rose evening gown," she said. "It needs a stitch or two
where I tore it dancing."

At six, not being dressed yet, she put on a belted chamber robe and
trotted into the living room, as confidently as though she had no
doubts concerning what she was about to do.

It seemed to take a long while for the operator to make the
connection, and Palla's hand trembled a little where it held the
receiver tightly against her ear. When, presently, a servant
answered:

"Please say to him that a client wishes to speak to him regarding an
investment."

Finally she heard his voice saying: "This is Mr. James Shotwell
Junior; who is it wishes to speak to me?"

"A client," she faltered, "--who desires to--to participate with
you in some plan for the purpose of--of improving our mutual
relationship."

"Palla." She could scarcely hear his voice.

"I--I'm so unhappy, Jim. Could you come to-night?"

He made no answer.

"I suppose you haven't heard that Jack Estr