gather her wits for an ordeal which she felt it would have killed her to
delay. At ten minutes to eight she emerged again and glanced anxiously at
Mrs. Holt's door; and scarcely had she reached the lower hall before he
drove into the circle. She was struck more forcibly than ever by the
physical freshness of the man, and he bestowed on her, as he took her
hand, the peculiar smile she knew so well, that always seemed to have an
enigma behind it. At sight and touch of him the memory of what she had
prepared to say vanished.

"Behold me, as ever, your obedient servant," he said, as he followed her
into the screened-off portion of the porch.

"You must think it strange that I sent for you, I know," she cried, as
she turned to him. "But I couldn't wait. I--I did not know until last
night. Howard only told me then. Oh, you didn't do it for me! Please say
you didn't do it for me!"

"My dear Honora," replied Trixton Brent, gravely, "we wanted your husband
for his abilities and the valuable services he can render us."

She stood looking into his eyes, striving to penetrate to the soul
behind, ignorant or heedless that others before her had tried and failed.
He met her gaze unflinchingly, and smiled.

"I want the truth," she craved.

"I never lie--to a woman," he said.

"My life--my future depends upon it," she went on. "I'd rather scrub
floors, I'd rather beg--than to have it so. You must believe me!"