toe the mark if he won her. But he did not appear to be nursing a
blighted heart at present.

Madeleine's depression left her. _That_, at least, Howard would
never do. She felt full of hope and buoyancy once more, not realizing
that it is easier to win back a lover than change the nature of man.

When Madeleine reached the Cliff House, that shabby innocent-looking
little building whose evil fame had run round the world, she stared
at it fascinated. Its restaurant overhung the sea. On this side the
blinds were down. It looked as if awaiting the undertaker. She
pictured Howard's horror when she told him of her close contact with
vice, and anticipated with a pleasurable thrill the scolding he would
give her. They had never quarrelled and it would be delightful to
make up.

"Not Mrs. Talbot! No! Assuredly not!"

Involuntarily Madeleine raised her veil. She recognized the voice of
"Old" Ben Travers (he was only fifty but bald and yellow), the Union
Club gossip, and the one man in San Francisco she thoroughly
disliked. He stood with his hat in his hand, an expression of
ludicrous astonishment on his face.

"Yes, it is I," said Madeleine coolly. "And I am very much
interested."

"Ah? Interested?" He glanced about. If this were an assignation
either the man was late or had lost courage. But he assumed an
expression of deep respect. "That I can well imagine, cloistered as