long. At sight of him she began to weep again. ``She won't
believe me, pa,'' she said. ``Look at her standing there hugging
his picture.''

Ganser scowled at his daughter and addressed himself to Hilda,
``It's true, Miss,'' he said. ``The man is a scoundrel. I sent
my daughter to warn you.''

Hilda looked at him haughtily. ``I don't know you,'' she said,
``and I do know him. I don't know why you've come here to
slander him. But I do know that I'd trust him against the whole
world.'' She glanced from father to daughter. ``You haven't
done him any harm and you might as well go.''

Peter eyed her in disgust. ``You're as big a fool as my Lena,''
he said. ``Come on, Lena.''

As Lena was leaving the room, she gave Hilda a malignant glance.
``He's MY husband,'' she said spitefully, ``and you're-- well, I
wouldn't want to say what you are.''

``Move!'' shouted Ganser, pushing her out of the room. His
parting shot at Hilda was: ``Ask him.''

Hilda, still holding the photograph, stared at the doorway
through which they had disappeared. ``You lie!'' she repeated,
as if they were still there. Then again, a little catch in her
voice: ``You lie!'' And after a longer interval, a third time,
with a sob in her throat: ``You lie! I know you lie!'' She sat
at the table and held the photograph before her. She kissed it