The shimmer of light came into the blue eyes again. She seemed to
have done with her mental analysis of him, and he saw that a bit
of color was creeping into her cheeks, pale when she had entered
the room.

"You wouldn't be the first I've seen pop off," she assured him.
"There have been a number, and I've never cried very much. I'd
rather see a man die than some animals. But I shouldn't like to
see YOU do it. Does that comfort you--like the woman you prayed
the Lord for?"

"It does," gasped Kent. "But why the devil, Miss Marette--"

"Marette," she corrected again.

"Yes, Marette--why the devil have you come to see me at just the
moment I'm due to explode? And what's your other name, and how old
are you, and what do you want of me?"

"I haven't any other name, I'm twenty, and I came to get
acquainted with you and see what you are like."

"Bully!" exclaimed Kent. "We're getting there fast! And now, why?"

The girl drew her chair a few inches nearer, and for a moment Kent
thought that her lovely mouth was trembling on the edge of a
smile.

"Because you have lied so splendidly to save another man who was
about to die."