a dull thud behind him. O'Brien had fallen back into
a chair, with his hand pressed tight to his side.

"Jinny!" he gasped--"Jinny!"

Mrs. Grey stopped dead in her advance, and stared
at him with a face from which every expression had
been struck out, save one of astonishment and horror.
Then with a sharp intaking of the breath she reeled,
and would have fallen had the Professor not thrown
his long, nervous arm round her.

"Try this sofa," said he.

She sank back among the cushions with the same
white, cold, dead look upon her face. The Professor
stood with his back to the empty fireplace and
glanced from the one to the other.

"So, O'Brien," he said at last, "you have already
made the acquaintance of my wife!"

"Your wife, " cried his friend hoarsely. "She is
no wife of yours. God help me, she is MY wife."

The Professor stood rigidly upon the hearthrug.
His long, thin fingers were intertwined, and his head
sunk a little forward. His two companions had eyes
only for each other.