inadequately clothed; and seeking confirmation of this, his gaze strayed
downward to where one little slippered foot peeped out from the civet
furs.

Leroux suppressed a gasp. He had caught a glimpse of a bare ankle!

He crossed to his writing-table, and seated himself, glancing sideways
at this living mystery. Suddenly she began, in a voice tremulous and
scarcely audible:--

"Mr. Leroux, at a great--at a very great personal risk, I have come
to-night. What I have to ask of you--to entreat of you, will... will"...

Two bare arms emerged from the fur, and she began clutching at her
throat and bosom as though choking--dying.

Leroux leapt up and would have run to her; but forcing a ghastly smile,
she waved him away again.

"It is all right," she muttered, swallowing noisily. But frightful
spasms of pain convulsed her, contorting her pale face.

"Some brandy--!" cried Leroux, anxiously.

"If you please," whispered the visitor.

She dropped her arms and fell back upon the chesterfield, insensible.