"When is this meeting with Fitzgerald to come off?" John Dory asked
abruptly.

She did not answer him at once. A low, triumphant smile had parted her
lips.

"To-morrow night," she said; "he is to meet me in Mr. Ruff's office."

"At what time?" John Dory asked.

"At eight o'clock," she answered. "Mr. Ruff is keeping his office open
late on purpose. Spencer thinks that afterwards he is going to take me
out to dinner."

"You are sure of this?" John Dory asked eagerly. "You are sure that the
man Ruff does not suspect you? You believe he means that you shall meet
Fitzgerald?"

"I am sure of it," she answered. "He is even a little jealous," she
continued, with an affected laugh. "He told me--well, never mind!"

"He told you what?" John Dory asked.

She laughed.

"Never you mind," she said. "I have done what you asked me anyway.
If Mr. Ruff had not found me an agreeable companion he would not have
bothered about getting Spencer to meet me. And now he's done it," she
added, "I do believe he's a little jealous."

John Dory glared, but he said nothing. It seemed to him that his hour of
revenge was close at hand!

It was the first occasion upon which words of this sort had passed
between Peter Ruff and his secretary. There was no denying the fact
that Miss Violet Brown was in a passion. It was an hour past the time
at which she usually left the office. For an hour she had pleaded, and
Peter Ruff remained unmoved.

"You are a fool!" she cried to him at last. "I am a fool, too, that I
have ever wasted my thoughts and time upon you. Why can't I make you
see? In every other way, heaven knows, you are clever enough! And yet
there comes this vulgar, commonplace, tawdry little woman from heaven
knows where, and makes such a fool of you that you are willing to fling
away your career--to hold your wrists out for John Dory's handcuffs!"

"My dear Violet," Peter Ruff answered deprecatingly, "you really worry
me--you do indeed!"

"Not half so much as you worry me," she declared. "Look at the time.
It's already past seven. At eight o'clock Mrs. Dory--your Maud--is
coming in here hoping to find her old sweetheart."

"Why not?" he murmured.

"Why not, indeed?" Miss Brown answered angrily. "Don't you know--can't
you believe--that close on her heels will come her husband--that Mr.
Spencer Fitzgerald, if ever he comes to life in this room, will leave it
between two policemen?"

Peter Ruff sighed.

"What a pessimist you are,