ein in regard to
his relations with Olga Obosky. While she was without actual proof, she
nevertheless tortured herself with suspicions that came almost to
the same thing; in any case, they had the desired effect in that they
created a very positive sense of irritation, and nothing seemed to
please her more in the dead hour of night than the feeling that she had
a right to be disgusted with him.

And now, Landover, in his sly arraignment, prodded a very live, raw
spot, and she knew that it was bleak unhappiness and not rancour that
had kept her awake.

"Is it necessary to beat about the bush, Mr. Land-over? If you have
anything definite to tell me about Mr. Percival and Madame Obosky,
I grant you permission to say all you have to say in the plainest
language. Call a spade a spade. I am quite old enough to hear things
called by their right names."

"Since you have been so quick to get my meaning, I don't consider it
necessary to go into details. I daresay you have ears and eyes of your
own. You can see and hear as well as I,--unless you are resolved to be
both blind and deaf."

"Did you not hear me say that I know he loves me?"

"Yes,--I heard you quite distinctly."

"As a rule, do men love two women at the same time?" she inquired,
patiently.

"I have never said that he loves Obosky. It is barely possible, however,
that he may not choose to resist her,--if that conveys anything to your
intelligence."

"It does and it does not," she replied steadily. "You see, I believe in
him. I trust him."

"And I suppose you trust Olga Obosky," he said, with a sneer.

"I understand Olga Obosky far better than you do, Mr. Landover."

"I doubt it," said he drily.

"She is my friend."

"Ah! That measurably simplifies the situation. She will no doubt prove
her friendship by delivering Mr. Percival to you, slightly damaged but
guaranteed to--"

"Please be good enough to remember, Mr. Land-over, that you are not
speaking to Manuel Crust," she exclaimed haughtily, and, with flaming
cheeks, swept past him.

He hesitated a moment, and then started to follow her. She stopped short
and, facing him, cried out: "Don't follow me! I do not want to hear
another word. Stop! I can see by your eyes that you are ashamed,--you
want to apologize. I do not want to hear it. I am hurt,--terribly hurt.
Nothing you can say will help matters now, Mr. Landover."

"Just a second, Ruth," he cried, now thoroughly dismayed. "Give me a
chance to