But with all his power of will he could not look at her.

"Carlton Dunlap," she cried, leaning both hands for support on the
table, bending over and at last forcing him to look her in the eyes,
"do you know what I think of you? I think you are a damned coward.
There!"

Instead of tears and recriminations, instead of the conventional
"How could you do it?" instead of burning denunciation of him for
ruining her life, he read something else in her face. What was it?

"Coward?" he repeated slowly. "What would you have me do--take you
with me?"

She tossed her head contemptuously.

"Stay and face it?" he hazarded again.

"Is there no other way?" she asked, still leaning forward with her
eyes fixed on his. "Think! Is there no way that you could avoid
discovery just for a time? Carlton, you--we are cornered. Is there
no desperate chance?"

He shook his head sadly.

Her eyes wandered momentarily about the studio, until they rested on
an easel. On it stood a water color on which she had been working,
trying to put into it some of the feeling which she would never have
put into words for him. On the walls of the apartment were pen and