ne who has approached it
noiselessly by design. Dredlinton stood upon the threshold, blinking a
little as he gazed into the room. He recognized Wingate with a start of
amazement.

"Wingate?" he exclaimed. "Why the mischief didn't any one tell me you
were here?"

"Mr. Wingate called to see me," Josephine replied.

There was an ugly curl upon Dredlinton's lips. He opened his mouth and
closed it again. Then his truculent attitude suddenly vanished without
the slightest warning. He became an entirely altered person.

"Look here, Wingate," he confessed, "on thinking it over, I believe I've
been making rather an idiot of myself. Josephine," he went on, turning to
his wife, "be so kind as to leave us alone for a short time."

He opened the door. Josephine hesitated for a moment, then, in response
to a barely noticeable gesture from Wingate, she left the room. Her
husband closed the door carefully behind her. His attitude, as he turned
once more towards the other man, was distinctly conciliatory.

"Wingate," he invited, "sit down, won't you, and smoke a cigar with me.
Let us have a reasonable chat together, I am perfectly convinced that
there is nothing for us to quarrel about."

"Since when have you come to that conclusion, Lord Dredlinton?" Wingate
asked, without abandoning his somewhat uncompromising attitude.

"Since our interview at the office."

"You mean when you tried to blackmail me into selling my shipping
shares?"

Dredlinton frowned.

"'Blackmail' is not a word to be used between gentlemen," he protested.
"Look here, can't you behave like a decent fellow--an ordinary human
being, you know? You are not exactly my sort, but I am sure you're a man
of honour, I haven't any objection to your friendship with my wife--none
in the world."

"The sentiments which I entertain for your wife, Lord Dredlinton,"
Wingate declared, "are not sentiments of friendship."

Dredlinton paused in the act of lighting a cigar.

"What's that?" he exclaimed. "You mean that, after all, you've humbugged
me, both of you?"

"Not in the way you seem to imagine. This much, however, is true, and it
is just as well that you should know it. I love your wife and I intend to
take her from you, in her time and mine."

Dredlinton lit his cigar and threw himself back into his chair.

"Well, you don't mince matters," he muttered.

"I see no reason why I should," was the calm reply.

"After all," Dredlinton observed, with a cynical turn