unnecessary to me. I know all."

The man blew a cloud of smoke into the air, and smiled. "Yes," he
continued, "I even read your thoughts to-night as you sat before this
fire."

"You did!" The woman's eyes grew wide with fear and amazement. "Who
are you, anyway?"

"I am merely a stand-between; that has been my business for years."

"A stand-between?"

"Yes, I stand between people and ignorance. I supply them with mental
food, books of the first-water. They all know me, and look upon me as
a public benefactor."

"So you are a book-agent, then? And you want to sell me some books, I
suppose? Is that your business here to-night?"

The man waved his hand haughtily, and flicked the ashes from his
cigarette into the fire.

"No, madame, it is not. Business is somewhat dull these days, I must
confess. People are not as anxious as formerly for pure literature.
There are too many counter attractions. This being so, I find it is
becoming more difficult to stand between my family and poverty.
Therefore, I am here to-night."

"So you want me to give you some money; is that it?"