heavily on him as they walked toward the house. The faint perfume that
had almost intoxicated him, earlier, vaguely irritated him now.

At the rear of the house she shook off his arm and preceded him around
the building. She chose the end of the porch as the place in which to
drop, and went down like a stone, falling back.

There was a moderate excitement. The visitors at Schwitter's were too
much engrossed with themselves to be much interested. She opened her
eyes almost as soon as she fell--to forestall any tests; she was
shrewd enough to know that Wilson would detect her malingering very
quickly--and begged to be taken into the house. "I feel very ill," she
said, and her white face bore her out.

Schwitter and Bill carried her in and up the stairs to one of the newly
furnished rooms. The little man was twittering with anxiety. He had a
horror of knockout drops and the police. They laid her on the bed, her
hat beside her; and Wilson, stripping down the long sleeve of her glove,
felt her pulse.

"There's a doctor in the next town," said Schwitter. "I was going to
send for him, anyhow--my wife's not very well."

"I'm a doctor."

"Is it anything serious?"

"Nothing serious."

He closed the door behind the relieved figure of the landlord, and,
going back to Carlotta, stood looking down at her.

"What did you mean by doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"You were no more faint than I am."

She closed her eyes.

"I don't remember. Everything went black. The lanterns--"

He crossed the room deliberately and went out, closing the door behind
him. He saw at once where he stood--in what danger. If she insisted
that she was ill and unable to go back, there would be a fuss. The story
would come out. Everything would be gone. Schwitter's, of all places!

At the foot of the stairs, Schwitter pulled himself together. After all,
the girl was only ill. There was nothing for the police. He looked at
his watch. The doctor ought to be here by this time. It was sooner than
they had expected. Even the nurse had not come. Tillie was alone, out
in the harness-room. He looked through the crowded rooms, at the
overflowing porch with its travesty of pleasure, and he hated the whole
thing with a desperate hatred.

Another car. Would they never stop coming! But perhaps it was the
doctor. A young man edged his way into the hall and confronted him.

"Two people just arrived here. A man and a woman--in white. Where are
they?"

It w