wall.

He heard the loose plaster rattle down; but when he looked for the
result of his blow, he saw nothing but the old-fashioned, dirty paper on
the wall, apparently without a hole or tear in it.

The discovery made him feel sick.

He turned to make his escape from the house, to which he felt that he
was a fool to have returned at all, when the door by which he had
entered opened slowly, and the girl came in.

A little flash, as of pleased surprise, passed over her white face. Then
she said, under her breath:

"So you have come back. I didn't think you would. I--I am sorry you
did."

Max looked rather blank. The girl's attraction for him had increased
during the short period he had been absent from her. He had had time to
think over his feelings, to find his interest stimulated by the process.
Imagination, which does so much for a woman with a man, and for a man
with a woman, had begun to have play. He had come back determined to
find out more about the girl, to probe to the bottom of the mystery in
which, perhaps, consisted so much of the charm she had for him.

Even now, upon her entrance, the first sight of her face had made his
heart leap up.

There was a pause when she finished speaking. Max, who was usually