His daughter turned slowly and faced him. Not white-faced with fear, but
to the unutterable astonishment of Terry she was quietly looking her
father up and down. Pollard sprang to his feet and struck the table so
that it quivered through all its massive length.

"Are you trying to shame me before a stranger?" thundered the big man.
"Is that the scene?"

She flicked Terry Hollis with a glance. "I think he'll understand and
make allowances."

It brought the heavy fist smashing on the table again. And an ugly
feeling rose in Hollis that the big fellow might put hands on his
daughter.

"And what d'you mean by that? What in hell d'you mean by that?"

In place of wincing, she in turn came to her feet gracefully. There had
been such an easy dignity about her sitting at the piano that she had
seemed tall to Terry. Now that she stood up, he was surprised to see that
she was not a shade more than average height, beautifully and strongly
made.

"You've gone about far enough with your little joke," said the girl, and
her voice was low, but with an edge of vibrancy that went through Hollis.
"And you're going to stop--pronto!"

There was a flash of teeth as she spoke, and a quiver through her body.
Terry had never seen such passion, such unreasoning, wild passion, as
that which had leaped on the girl. Though her face was not contorted,