"Come!" she says, taking her lover by the hand as a teacher might take
a child.

But George Harpwood is not at his wits' end.

"Get into my carriage, Esther," he suggests softly.

"No," she says sternly. "We will walk thither."

The pair go round the corner into a mist made azure by a vast building
which is lighted at every window to the seventh story. It rises three
blocks away like a storm-cloud over the lake.

It is the David Lockwin Annex. The bride hurries faster than the
bridegroom would have her walk. He seizes her arm.

"My dear," he whispers in those accents which seem to have lost their
magic power, "it is merely a claimant. I was expecting it, and I'll
put him in the penitentiary for it. Do not be alarmed by forgers. It
is only a forgery."




CHAPTER V

AT SIX O'CLOCK

Through the mist and the smoke a red and a green light shine out on