horseshoe, and the look on his face was not pleasant to see. A lean,
triumphant smile curled his heavy purple lips, the radiating wrinkles at
the corner of his eyes were drawn upward in a Mephistophelian hardness.

It was Victor Mahr. His expression suddenly changed to one of intense
disgust, as a tall young man entered the Denning box and bent in evident
admiration over Dorothy's smiling face. Victor Mahr rose from his seat,
and with a curt nod to Gard, who feigned interest elsewhere, disappeared
into the corridor.

* * * * *




III


Mrs. Marteen stood at her desk, a mammoth affair of Jacobean type,
holding in her hand a sheet of crested paper, scrawled over in a large,
tempestuous hand.


MY DEAR MRS. MARTEEN:

If you will be so good as to drop in at the library at
five, it will give me great pleasure to go over with you
the details of my stewardship. The commission with
which you honored me has, I think, been well directed
to an excellent result. Moreover, a little chat with you