, she must know about the
Syndicate. Already he had felt an attraction toward Constance
physically, an attraction of maturity which somehow or other seemed
more satisfying, at least novel, in contrast with, the gay butterfly
talk of Stella.

He did not ask Vera to dance. Instead he began banteringly to discuss
Wall Street and in five minutes he found out that she really knew as
much about certain features of the game as he did. She did not need to
be told that Alfred Warrington, plunger, man about town, was quite
unexpectedly struck by her personality.

Now and then she could see Stella eyeing her covertly. The little
actress had had, like many another, a few dollars to invest or rather
with which to speculate. Her method had been usually to make a quick
profit on a tip from some Wall Street friend. Often, if the tip went
wrong, the friend would return the money to the unsuspecting little
girl, with some muttered apology about having been unable to get it
placed in time, and then, as the market went down or up, seeing that it
was too late, adding a congratulation that at least the principal was
saved if there was no profit.

The little actress was plainly piqued. She saw, though she did not
understand, that Constance was a different kind of plunger from what
she had thought at first up at Charmant's. Instead of trying to compete
with Constance in her field, she redoubled her efforts in her own. Was
Warrington, a live spender, to slip through her grasp for a chance
acquaintance?

Another dance. This time it was Stella and Warrington. Braden, who had
served excellently as a foil to lead Warrington on when he had eyes for
no one else, not even Vera, was left severely alone. Nothing was said,
not an action done openly, but Constance, woman-like, could feel the
contest in the air. And she felt just a little quiver when they sat
down and Warrington resumed the conversation with her where he had left
it. Even the daring cut of Stella's gown and the exaggerated proximity
of her dainty person had failed this time.

As they chatted gaily, Constance enjoyed her triumph to the full. Yes,
she could see that Stella was violently jealous. But she intended that
she should be. That was now a part of her plan as it shaped itself in
her mind, since she had plunged or, perhaps better, had been dragged
into the game.

As the evening wore on and the dancing became more furious, Warrington
seemed to catch the spirit of recklessness th