had just vacated.

James glanced at the chair. Then his eyes turned back to her with a
question in them. Finally he shrugged his shoulders and flung himself
into the seat, and stretched out his long legs luxuriously.

Apparently Jessie had not noticed the shrug. It would have been better
had she done so. She might then have understood more fully the man she
was dealing with. However, she turned to the window and spoke with her
back to him.

"It's about--things," she said a little lamely.

The man's smile was something ironical, as his eyes greedily devoured
the beauty of her figure.

"I'm glad," he said in a non-committing way. Then, as no reply was
immediately forthcoming, he added, "Get going."

But Jessie made no answer. She was thinking hard, and somehow her
thoughts had an uneasy confusion in them. She was trying hard to find
the best way to begin that which she had to say, but every opening
seemed inadequate. She must not appeal, she must not dictate. She must
adopt some middle course. These things she felt instinctively.

The man shifted his position and glanced round the room.

"Kind of snug here," he said pleasantly, running his eyes appreciatively
over the simple decorations, the cheap bric-a-brac which lined the
walls and, in a world where all decoration was chiefly conspicuous
by its absence, gave to the place a suggestion of richness. The red
pine walls looked warm, and the carpeted floor was so unusual as to
give one a feeling of extraordinary refinement. Then, too, the chairs,
scattered about, spoke of a strain after civilized luxury. The whole
ranch-house had been turned inside out to make Jessie's quarters all
she could desire them.

"Yes," he muttered, "it's sure snug." Then his eyes came back to the
woman. "Maybe there's something I've forgotten. Guess you've just got
to fix a name to it."

Jessie turned instantly. Her beautiful eyes were shining with a sudden
hope, but her face was pale with a hardly controlled emotion.

"That's easy," she said. "I want my children. I want little Vada. I--I
must have her. You promised I should. If you hadn't, I should never
have left. I must have her." She spoke breathlessly, and broke off
with a sort of nervous jolt.

In the pause that followed James' expression underwent a subtle
change. It was not that there was any definite movement of a single
muscle. His smile remained, but, somehow, through it peeped a hard
look which had not been there before