have forgotten the presence of the two men. She did not look at
either of them, but continued to rub and chafe her wrists softly.

Deede Dawson had forgotten for once to smile, his brow was slightly
wrinkled, his cold grey eyes intent and watchful, and Dunn felt very
sure that he was thinking out some plan or scheme.

The hope came to him that Deede Dawson was thinking he might prove
of use, and that was the thought which, above all others, he wished
the other to have. It was, indeed, that thought which all his
recent actions had been aimed to implant in Deede Dawson's mind
till his dreadful discovery in the attic had seemed to make at last
direct action possible. How, in his present plight that thought,
if Deede Dawson should come to entertain it, might yet prove his
salvation. Now and again Deede Dawson gave him quick, searching
glances, but when at last he spoke it was Ella he addressed.

"Wrists hurt you much?" he asked.

"Not so much now," she answered. "They were beginning to hurt a
great deal, though."

"Were they, though?" said Deede Dawson. "And to think you might
have been like that for hours if I hadn't chanced to come home.
Too bad, what a brute this fellow is."

"Men mostly are, I think," she observed indifferently.

"And women mostly like to get their own back again," he remarked
with a chuckle, and then turned sharply to Dunn. "Well, my man,"