chivalrous gentleman snapped. "There's
nothing inside urging me to go to jail for anybody's sake, even
overnight. And another thing, I've got a wife, Anthony! Just consider
where this would put me with Beatrice, and how dead certain it would be,
with Hitchin airing his views and conclusions, that he'd mention the
lady you introduce as Mrs. Boller!"

"But----"

"But nothing!" Johnson Boller said, his personal trouble coming
uppermost again. "That's the worst break you've made so far, Anthony!
That Mrs. Boller business is likely to cause me----"

He shut his teeth on the end of the sentence. Wilkins, white and
distressed, was coming down the corridor with what looked rather like
kangaroo leaps. He came to David's door and stopped, turning the knob.
He entered--and immediately he left the room again and sped to Anthony.

"She wishes to see you again, sir!"

Anthony jerked obediently to his feet and laid a cold hand on Johnson
Boller's.

"Get up there and keep Vining busy," he said. "That's all. Hurry!"

Johnson Boller shuffled back to the living-room, where the unfortunate
paced up and down and wrung his hands. Anthony, waiting tremulously
until he heard both their voices, hurried into Mary's room--and looked
at her with a new, dreadful terror. She was no longer a merely
unfortunate, unknown young woman whose good name he had placed in
considerable jeopardy; Mary, by now, had become the potential stick of
dynamite that bade fair to blast him out of the Lasande, out of his
regular life, out of everything but the chance to sally forth and hunt a
job!

"Well? Well?" she asked swiftly.

"Yes?"

"Is he gone? Is he gone?" Mary cried.

"He will--go shortly!" Anthony said thickly. "You--you are Theodore
Dalton's daughter!"

Mary stared at him.

"So you've discovered that?"

"He--in a business way----" Anthony muttered vaguely.

"Yes, that was my reason for coming here," Mary said, cheerfully enough.
"I've heard him speak of you--oh, no, not very flatteringly; I don't
think he likes you. I've heard him say that some day he'd wreck you,
when he was ready; and I was very curious indeed to see what sort of man
you were and whether you were nice enough to plead for, if he ever
started. I don't like dad to wreck people."

Anthony nodded.

"And that was another reason why I was afraid to tell the truth last
night," said Mary. "If you were business enemies--bitter ones, I
mean--and you found out that you had father