t, big enough, splendid enough to harmonise with what he
remembered was the majestic beauty of the woman's figure--and the hours
had only made the task seem the more beyond him, his each succeeding
imaginary design the more inadequate and pitiful.

It made him angry now, increased and inflamed his already irritable and
savage mood. Why had he started in to think of that! Why, in heaven's
name, should he think of everything that morning that he did not want
to think of! Why, when nothing else would come, should the cold,
enigmatical face of Paul Valmain staring at that confounded key, come
so readily before him, and--he hurled his modelling tool suddenly,
savagely, into the far corner of the room; and, stepping down from the
platform, pulled viciously at the bell. He was yanking his blouse off
over his head, as Hector appeared.

"Get my car, Hector!" he snapped tersely. "I am going out."

Hector's blue eyes widened in amazement. The car in the morning--the
morning that was sacred to work!

"The car, m'sieu?" he repeated, as though he had not heard aright.

"Yes, imbecile--the car!" Jean snapped again.

"But, m'sieu!" It was unheard of! It had never occurred before! "But
is m'sieu not going to work this morning, and--"

"The _car_!"

"But, yes, m'sieu--instantly--instantly, m'sieu!" Hector stammered--and
retreated hastily from the room.

Jean followed him--spent a few impatient moments kicking at the
sidewalk while he waited; and then, at the wheel of his big, powerful
machine, went tearing up the street. Work! It was worse than useless
in the vile humour he was in. The car had been an inspiration; he
would go nowhere in particular, but he would drive--fast. That was
what he wanted, some excitement, some exhilaration. He would go out
into the country, anywhere, with the whole day before him, and--no! He
would go first to Myrna's house! Why not! He scowled heavily again.
It was getting beyond endurance, that sort of thing! There had been
three, no, four days of it now! The decision quite fitted in with his
mood--whatever might be the result. Yes, _nom d'un nom_, he would go
there--and at once!

It was but a short way; and, at the expiration of a few minutes, Jean
stopped his car in front of the magnificent residence that Henry Bliss
maintained in a style that was almost regal, jumped out, and ran up the
steps.

"Mademoiselle Bliss," he said to the liveried automaton that answered
his summo