re?" She
looked around her, wild as a captured bird. "Oh, I must go! I must
go!"

"Jane, my child,"--he put his arm about her, held her two hands in
his,--"you must do nothing of the kind. If you don't want this Pierre
to find you, if you don't want him to come into your life, there's an
easy, a very simple, way to put an end to his pursuit. Don't you know
that?"

She stared up at him, quivering in his arm. "No. What is it? How can
I? Oh, he mustn't see me! Never, never, never! I made that promise to
myself."

"Jane, you say yourself that you are changed, that you are not the
girl he wants to find."

She shook her head desolately enough. "Oh, no, I'm not."

"He isn't sure that Jane West is the woman he's looking for. He's
following the faintest, the most doubtful, of trails. He heard of you
from Yarnall; the description of you and your sudden flight made him
fairly sure that it must be--you--" Jasper laughed. "I'm talking quite
at random in a sense, because I haven't a notion, my dear, who you are
nor what this Pierre has been in your life. If you could tell me--?"

She shook her head. "No," she said; "no."

"Very well. Then I'll have to go on talking at random. Jane at the
Lazy-Y Ranch was a woman who had deliberately disguised herself. Jane
West in New York is a different woman altogether; but, unless I'm very
wrong, she is even more completely disguised from Pierre Landis. If
you can convince Pierre that you _are_ Jane West, not any other woman,
certainly not the woman he once knew, aren't you pretty safely rid of
him for always?"

She stood still now. He felt that her fingers were cold. "Yes. For
always. I suppose so. But how can I do that, Mr. Morena?"

"Nothing easier. You're an actress, aren't you? I advised Pierre
Landis to stand near the stage exit to-night and watch you get into
your motor."

Again she clutched at him. "Oh, no. Don't--don't let him do that!"

"Now, if you will make an effort, look him in the eyes, refuse to show
a single quiver of recognition, speak to some one in the most
artificial tone you can manage, pass him by, and drive away, why,
wouldn't that convince him that you aren't his quarry--eh?"

She thought! then slowly drew herself away and stood, her head bent,
her brows drawn sharply together. "Yes. I suppose so. I think I can do
it. That is the best plan." She looked at him wildly again. "Then it
will be over for always, won't it? He'll go away?"

"Yes, my poor child. H