"But, Betty, dear, that's just what I mean. Why should you say that?
How can you know?"

"How do I know? Well, I do know. Instinct, I suppose. The instinct of
self-preservation which nature gives hunted animals. I can't think of a
single man in the world--except your Marvin, of course--who wouldn't
do anything for money." She stopped. "Well, yes, one."

Elsa leaned forward eagerly.

"Who, Betty?"

"You don't know him."

"But what's his name?"

Betty hesitated.

"Well, if I am on the witness-stand--Maude."

"Maude? I thought you said a man?"

"It's his name. John Maude."

"But, Betty! Why didn't you tell me before? This is tremendously
interesting."

Betty laughed shortly.

"Not so very, really. I only met him two or three times, and I haven't