fight down her craving for the drug if only to
spite Clifford.

With a curious vindictive satisfaction, Olive took out her hypodermic
syringe from its secret place and smashed it to pieces with the bedroom
poker. She gathered up the fragments of glass and silver and threw them
into the fire, heaping coals over them.

As she was poking the fire, her maid knocked and entered with a letter.
The postmark was Wiesbaden; the handwriting was her husband's. No doubt
a further appeal to her feelings, she reflected contemptuously. But the
letter proved to be from Elaine--written at the invalid's dictation by
Riviere.

Olive read it with a mixture of indignation and very lively curiosity.
The letter was no appeal to her feelings--rather, a challenge:--

"I think we ought to meet," it said. "I have many things to tell you of
which you know nothing at present--unless you have guessed. They affect
your husband's position very materially. Unfortunately I am confined to
a sick-room, else I should have come to London before this in order to
call upon you."

That was all.

Olive's indignation was based on the obvious deduction that Riviere had
confided completely in the girl. Her curiosity was roused by the
thoughts of what she could be like to exert such a fascination, and what
she could have to say. Perhaps the letter was a ruse to see Olive and
then make another appeal for pity. Well, in that case there would be a
very delicious pleasure in giving an absolute refusal--a pleasure one
could taste in anticipation and linger over in execution. One could play
with the girl a little--pretend to be influenced, hesitate, ask for time
to consider, raise hopes, fan them, and then administer the _coup de
grace_.

To see Elaine promised an exciting diversion, very welcome just now when
Olive had to give up the customary stimulation of the drug.

These considerations united in deciding her to travel to Wiesbaden. She
would cross to the Continent alone, her father and her maid being left
at home. Sir Francis knew nothing as yet of Riviere--for Olive had told
him nothing. She had an unlimited capacity for keeping her own counsel
when it suited her purpose.

The next day saw her _en route_ for Wiesbaden, following a letter to
that effect to Elaine.

CHAPTER XXVII

WOMEN'S WEAPONS

Olive had a genius for dress. Her gowns had not only style, which might
be due to the costumier, but also effect, which is entirely personal.
They