He was very near at that moment throwing all thoughts of Rice's words to
the winds, and retracting all that he had said. After all, it was she
who had brought him back from death. Whatever his future might be, he
owed it to her. She looked into his eyes and felt that she had
conquered. Yet the very fascination of that smile which parted her lips
was like a chill warning to him.

"I will tell you who it was who has been talking to me," he said. "It
is a clerk of Drexley's, a man named Rice."

She nodded.

"I thought so. Poor boy. He will never forgive me."

"For what?" Douglas asked quickly. That was the crux of the whole
matter.

"For his own folly," she answered quietly. "I was good to him--helped
him in many ways. He tried to make love to me. I had to send him away,
of course. That is the worst of you young men. If a woman tries to
help you, you seem to think it your duty to fall in love with her. What
is she to do then?"

"Can't a woman--always make it clear--if she wants to--that that sort of
thing is not permitted?"

"Do you think that she can? Do you think that she knows what she wishes
herself until the last moment, until it is too late?"

Douglas rose up a little unsteadily.