d a moment at the side entrance
of the house. She wanted to look back, but a stronger instinct forbade
it; she opened the door and passed into the hall.

It was a broad, low-ceilinged apartment, and served as a common
living-room to the master of Arcadia House and his guests. A few embers
burned on the hearth, and a solitary candle set in a wall-sconce strove
with its feeble glimmer against the full tide of silver moonshine that
poured in through the uncurtained windows facing on the river. Quinton
Edge himself was sitting at the corner of the fireplace smoking a
red-clay pipe with a reed stem. He rose as Esmay entered, detaining her
with a gesture as she would have passed him.

"One moment, if you will."

The girl stopped and waited for him to continue. He considered a moment,
looking her over coolly. And indeed she made an attractive picture as
she stood there, the firelight glinting redly in her tawny eyes and her
cheeks incarnadined with excitement. Quinton Edge told himself that he
had made no mistake. Then he spoke:

"You have waited most patiently for me to announce my intentions. Let me
see; it is nearly three months since you came to Arcadia House?"

The girl made no reply. Alert and keeping herself well in hand, she
would force him to the first move. And Quinton Edge realized that he
would have to make it.

"It won't be any news to you that there are several people who would be
glad to be informed of your whereabouts. There's Boris, for one, and
young Ulick--we spoke of them some time ago."

"But to no purpose, sir; you remember that."

"Perfectly. Still, in three months a woman may change her mind many
times."

"But only for her own satisfaction."

"Then it is hopeless to expect a decision from you?"

"Evidently."

"In that case it may become necessary for me to act for you."

"Oh!"

The exclamation told its own story, and the girl in her vexation bit the
lip that had betrayed her. Quinton Edge smiled.

"Don't distress yourself," he said, smoothly. "I am only giving you the
warning that courtesy entitles you to receive."

Esmay reflected. Whatever his intentions concerning her, she could not
be the worse off for knowing them. So she went on, steadily:

"Since you have already decided upon my future, argument would be
useless. But perhaps I may assume that you have acted with some small
regard for my interests."

"Not the least in the world," returned Quinton Edge, and Esmay smiled
invo