ve been at
my side to-day. Now, who are you? She told me you were a relative."

"She told you the truth; I am. Her nearest relative. The story in the
paper has a certain amount of truth in it. Her brother, not her sister,
has come back from the grave. I am that brother. She was once devoted to
me."

"You are--"

"Yes. Oh, there'll be no difficulty in my proving this relationship.
I have evidence upon evidence of the fact right in this room with me;
evidence much more convincing and far less disputable than this
surprising twin can bring forward if _her_ identity is questioned.
Georgian had a twin sister, but she was buried years ago. I was never
buried. I simply did not return from a well-known and dangerous voyage.
The struggle I had for life--you cannot want the details now--has left
its indelible impress in the scar which has turned me from a personable
man into what some people might call a monstrosity. And it is this scar
which has kept me so long from home and country. It has taken me four
years to make up my mind to face again my family and friends. And now
that I have, I find that it would have been better for us all if I had
stayed away. Georgian saw me and her mind wavered. In no other way can I
account for her wild behavior since that hour. That is all I have to say,
sir. I think I am almost as much an object of pity as yourself."

And for a moment he appeared to be so, not only to Gerridge, but to Mr.
Ransom himself. Then something in the man--his unnatural coldness, the
purpose which made itself felt through all his self-restraint--reawakened
Mr. Ransom's distrust and led him to say:

"Your complaint is natural. If you are Mrs. Ransom's brother, there
should be sympathy between us and not antagonism. But I feel only
antagonism. Why is this?"

A shrug, followed by an odd smile.

"You should be able to account for that on very reasonable grounds," said
he. "I do not expect much mercy from strangers. It is hard to make your
good intentions felt through such a distorted medium as my expression has
now become."

"Mrs. Ransom has been here," Ransom suddenly launched forth. "Within two
hours of your encounter under Mr. Fulton's roof, she was talking with you
in this hotel. I have proof positive of that, sir."

"I have no wish to deny the fact," was the steady answer. "She did come
here and we had a talk; it was necessary; I wanted money."

The last phrase was uttered with such grim determination that t