Gard crushed the letter in his hand in a frenzy of fury. So this--this
was Mahr's objective, this the cowardly vengeance his despicable mind
had evolved! He would strike his enemy through the heart of a child--he
would humiliate the girl so that, with shame and horror, she would turn
away from all that life held for her! He knew that if the bolt found
lodgment in her heart she would consider herself a thing too low, too
smirched, to face her world. The marriage, that Mahr feared and hated,
would never take place. Doubtless that evidence which Mrs. Marteen had
once wielded was now in his possession and with all precautions taken he
was fearless of any retaliation. The obscurity and exile he suggested
would be sought as the only issue from intolerable conditions. No, no, a
thousand times no! Mahr had leveled his stroke at a defenseless girl,
but the weapon that should parry it would be wielded by a man's strong
arm, backed by all the resources of brain and wealth.

As these thoughts raced through his mind, he had been standing erect and
silent, his eyes staring at the paper that crackled in his clenched
fist. Dorothy's voice sounded far away repeating something. It was not
till a strange hysterical note crept into her voice that he realized
what she was saying.

"Speak to me, please! What shall I do? What ought I to do? Tell me, tell
me!"

"Do?" he exclaimed. "Do? Why, nothing, my dear. It's a damnable,
treacherous snake-in-the-grass lie! Shake it out of your pretty head,
and leave me to trace this thing and deal with the scoundrel who wrote
it; and I'll promise you, my dear, that it will be such punishment as
will satisfy _me_--and I am not easily satisfied."