"You didn't say anything, except to Saunders?"

"No I'm not crazy."

"I'd better see Joe," she reflected. "Go and get him, Fred. And
tell Alice she needn't wait."

She got up and moved about the room, putting things away and finding
relief in movement, a still beautiful woman, with rather accentuated
features and an easy carriage. Without her make-up the stage
illusion of her youth was gone, and she showed past suffering and
present strain. Just then she was uneasy and resentful, startled
but not particularly alarmed. Her reason told her that Judson Clark,
even if he still lived and had been there that night, meant to leave
the dead past to care for itself, and wished no more than she to
revive it. She was surprised to find, as she moved about, that she
was trembling.

Her brother came back, and she turned to meet him. To her surprise
he was standing inside the door, white to the lips and staring at
her with wild eyes.

"Saunders!" he said chokingly, "Saunders, the damned fool! He's
given it away."

He staggered to a chair, and ran a handkerchief across his shaking
lips.

"He told Bassett, of the Times-Republican," he managed to say.
"Do you--do you know what that means? And Bassett got Clark's