tor should have had on
him not another coin, but something absolutely different, something
destructive, say, of a woman's reputation, and a great tragedy should
have been threatened by the casual misplacing of the coin."

"I have heard the same story told in a dozen different ways," said
Rankin.

"It has happened a hundred times. It must be continually happening,"
said Steingall.

"I know one extraordinary instance," said Peters, who up to the present,
secure in his climax, had waited with a professional smile until the big
guns had been silenced. "In fact, the most extraordinary instance of
this sort I have ever heard."

"Peters, you little rascal," said Quinny with a sidelong glance, "I
perceive you have quietly been letting us dress the stage for you."

"It is not a story that will please every one," said Peters, to whet
their appetite.

"Why not?"

"Because you will want to know what no one can ever know."

"It has no conclusion then?"

"Yes and no. As far as it concerns a woman, quite the most remarkable
woman I have ever met, the story is complete. As for the rest, it is
what it is, because it is one example where literature can do nothing
better than record."

"Do I know the woman?" asked De Gollyer, who flattered himself on
passing through every class of society.

"Possibly, but no more than any one else."

"An actress?"

"What she has been in the past I don't know--a promoter would better
describe her. Undoubtedly she has been behind the scenes in many an
untold intrigue of the business world. A very feminine woman, and yet,
as you shall see, with an unusual instantaneous masculine power of
decision."

"Peters," said Quinny, waving a warning finger, "you are destroying your
story. Your preface will bring an anticlimax."

"You shall judge," said Peters, who waited until his audience was in
strained attention before opening his story. "The names are, of course,
disguises."

Mrs. Rita Kildair inhabited a charming bachelor-girl studio, very
elegant, of the duplex pattern, in one of the buildings just off Central
Park West. She knew pretty nearly every one in that indescribable
society in New York that is drawn from all levels, and that imposes but
one condition for membership--to be amusing. She knew every one and no
one knew her. No one knew beyond the vaguest rumors her history or her
means. No one had ever heard of a Mr. Kildair. There was always about
her a certain defensive reserve the m