"I--I have seen him many times in Paris. My father? Oh, oh, it
can't be true."

"Jane, let me take you away from here--" began Graydon, observing
her pallor.

"No. Let me stay. It can't matter, Graydon. I want to look at him
again and again," she said, shrinking back as if the whole world
were staring at her. By the most prodigious effort she regained
control of her fleeing composure. It was a trying moment.

"He's worth millions," said Droom. "It will be worth while for YOU
to--"

"No!" she exclaimed passionately. "Do you think I will present
myself to him after he has cast me off! No! a thousand times, no!"

At that instant the party of six hurriedly arose to leave the place.
The tall man with the grey hair--the handsomest man of all--was
staring boldly at Jane's averted face, now red with consciousness.
As he passed her in going out of the room, his look grew more
insistent. She glanced up and a faint smile crossed his face.

"Devilish handsome girl," he remarked to the man behind him and
then he passed out of her sight, perhaps forever.

"The woman with him?" cried Jane, her eyes following the beautiful
creature at his side, "is she my mother?"