d about her own. She looked toward her husband and there was
a cold, stony feeling in her heart. She was glad to feel that she had
the courage to break from the trammels of convention which had so long
bound her, and she felt a delightful sense of freedom which told her
that at last the depths of her nature had been fathomed, and that the
love lying there had burst forth in all its strength.

The coach left the park and rolled into the sleeping city. Down the long
avenue it went, past rows of darkened houses. The cool breezes of the
lake seemed warmed by the heated pavements, and the freedom of the
country was lost in the narrow lines of streetway. Marion sat watching
the two converging rows of flickering street lamps stretching away as
far as she could see, and down the street before her she saw the lamps
of Jack Elliot's coach gleaming in the darkness. She remained lost in
thought, and did not speak again until the brake rattled and the drag
suddenly stopped.

Late that night Duncan sat in his room at the City Club. He was partly
undressed and his clothes lay scattered about in heedless confusion. In
his hand he held a glass of whiskey and soda, and between the occasional
sips he passed over in his mind the events of the day. He thought also
of the experiences of his life, and the women he had known came into his
mind; women who had trusted and loved him while they formed the idle
amusement of his hours; women who had felt his power for a while, only
to see him turn away for some later fancy. He smiled as he thought of
the words of love he had spoken to confiding hearts, but the smile
brought a tinge of remorse for the harm he had done. He thought of
Marion in a different light then, and a feeling of pity came into his
heart which prompted him to curb his selfish nature and act in a
generous way; but the echo of a cruel laugh came to him, and in fancy
he saw two mocking black eyes gleaming before him. "A man's a fool," he
said aloud, "not to take what fortune sends him."

CHAPTER XV.

A GAME OF SKILL.

The seemingly interminable hours of the Sunday following the races
passed slowly by. Marion spent the afternoon in her own room trying to
think over the possibilities of the near future. Her heedless conduct
had now brought her to a position which demanded resolute decision, and,
surrounded as she was by a maze of temptations, she required to exercise
the calmest judgment. A strong nature is able, at such t