e in each other's power. But you cannot go
about openly, even in New York, now. Some one besides myself must have
seen that article."

Graeme listened blankly. It was true. His fancied security in the city
was over. He had fled to New York because there, in the mass of people,
he could best sink his old identity and take on a new.

She leaned her head on her hand and her elbow on the table and looked
deeply into his eyes. "Let me take those securities," she said. "I will
be able to do safely what you cannot do."

Graeme did not seem now to consider the fortune for which he had risked
so much. The woman before him was enough.

"Will you?" he asked eagerly.

"I will do with them as I would for myself, better, because--because it
is a trust," she accepted.

"More than a trust," he added, as he leaned over in turn and in spite
of other diners in the restaurant took her hand.

There are times when the rest of the critical world and its frigid
opinions are valueless. Constance did not withdraw her hand. Rather she
watched in his eyes the subtle physical change in the man that her very
touch produced, watched and felt a response in herself.

Quickly she withdrew her hand. "I must go," she said rather hurriedly,
"it is getting late."

"Constance," he whispered, as he helped her on with her wraps, brushing
the waiter aside that he might himself perform any duty that involved
even touching her, "Constance, I am in your hands--absolutely."

It had been pleasant to dine with him. It was more pleasant now to feel
her influence and power over him. She knew it, though she only half
admitted it. They seemed for the moment to walk on air, as they
strolled, chatting, out to a taxicab.

But as the cab drew up before her own apartment, the familiar
associations of even the entrance brought her back to reality suddenly.
He handed her out, and the excitement of the evening was over. She saw
the thing in its true light. This was the beginning, not the end.

"Graeme," she said, as she lingered for a moment at the door.
"To-morrow we must find a place where you can hide."

"I may see you, though?" he asked anxiously.

"Of course. Ring me up in the morning, Graeme. Good-night," and she was
whisked up in the elevator, leaving Mackenzie with a sense of loss and
loneliness.

"By the Lord," he muttered, as he swung down the street in preference
to taking a cab, "what a woman that is!"

Together the next day they sought out a plac