sal now, and it seemed almost real."

"It was almost real," said Ingot, with his head turned away from Carnac,
but he winked at Larue and caught a furtive look from Luzanne's eye.

"I think we'd better have another hour hereabouts, then get back to New
York," said Larue. "There's a circus in the village--let us go to that."

At the village, they did the circus, called out praise to the clown,
gave the elephant some buns, and at five o'clock started back to New
York. Arrived at New York, they went to a hotel off Broadway for dinner,
and Carnac signed names in the hotel register as "Mr. and Mrs. Carnac
Grier." When he did it, he saw a furtive glance pass from Luzanne's eyes
to her father. It was disconcerting to him. Presently the two adjourned
to the sitting-room, and there he saw that the table was only laid for
two. That opened his eyes. The men had disappeared and he and Luzanne
were alone. She was sitting on a sofa near the table, showing to good
advantage. She was composed, while Carnac was embarrassed. Carnac began
to take a grip on himself.

The waiter entered. "When shall I serve dinner, sir?" he said.

Carnac realized that the dinner had been ordered by the two men, and
he said quietly: "Don't serve it for a half-hour yet--not till I ring,
please. Make it ready then. There's no hurry. It's early."

The waiter bowed and withdrew with a smile, and Carnac turned to
Luzanne. She smiled, got up, came over, laid a hand on his arm, and
said: "It's quiet and nice here, Carnac dear," and she looked up
ravishingly in his face.

"It's too quiet and it's not at all nice," he suddenly replied. "Your
father and Ingot have gone. They've left us alone on purpose. This is a
dirty game and I'm not going to play it any longer. I've had enough of
it. I've had my fill. I'm going now. Come, let's go together."

She looked a bit smashed and overdone. "The dinner!" she said in
confusion.

"I'll pay for that. We won't wait any longer. Come on at once, please."

She put on her things coolly, and he noticed a savage stealthiness as
she pushed the long pins through her hat and hair. He left the room.
Outside the hotel, Carnac held out his hand.

"Good night and good-bye, Luzanne," he said huskily. "You can get home
alone, can't you?"

She laughed a little, then she said: "I guess so. I've lived in New York
some years. But you and I are married, Carnac, and you ought to take me
to your home."

There was something devilish in