on scarves. But with the room bright as day, all
resemblance, except in clothes and wig and height, vanished at a glance.

The woman caught in her cruel fraud was a pitiable sight, yet I had no
pity for her then. Staring at the whitened face, framed in dishevelled,
mouse-brown hair, the long upper lip painted red in a high Cupid's bow
to resemble June's lovely mouth, I was sick with disgust. As at last she
yielded in despair to Jim's fierce clutch, and dropped sobbing on the
sofa, I felt I could have struck her. But she had no thought for me nor
for any of us--not even for Jim, who had ruined the game, nor for Miss
Reardon, who must have sold her to him at a price; for no one at all
except Robert Lorillard.

When she'd given up hope of escape, and lay panting, exhausted, flung
feebly across the sofa, she looked up at Robert.

"I loved you," she wept. "That's why I did it; I couldn't let you go to
another woman. I thought I saw a way to keep you always near me--almost
as if you were mine. You can't _hate_ a woman who loves you like that!"

Robert did not answer. I think he was half dazed. He stood staring at
her, frozen still like the statue of a man. I was frightened for him. He
had endured too much. Joyce couldn't go to him yet, though he would be
hers--all hers, for ever--bye and bye--but _I_ could go, as a friend.

I laid my hand on his arm, and spoke his name softly.

"Robert, I always felt there was fraud," I said. "Now, thank Heaven, we
know the truth before it's too late for you to be happy, as June herself
would want you to be happy, if she knew. She wasn't cruel--the _real_
June. She wasn't like this false one at heart. Go, now, I beg, and take
Joyce home to my flat--she's almost fainting. You must look after her. I
will stay here. Jim Courtenaye'll watch over me--and later we'll bring
you explanations of everything."

So I got them both away. And when they were gone the whole story was
dragged from Opal. Jim forced her to confess; and with Robert out of
sight--lost for ever to the wretched woman--the task wasn't difficult.
You see, Miss Reardon _had_ sold her beforehand. Jim doesn't care what
price he pays when he wants a thing!

First of all, he'd taken a house that was to let furnished, near Opal's.
She didn't know him from Adam, but he had her description. He followed
her several times, and saw her go to the Savoy; even saw her go to Miss
Reardon's rooms. Then, to Miss Reardon he presented himself, _