outcry, no startled action. Her dark eyes played questioningly upon
him--and he could see that they were wet with tears, and that the face
from out of which they looked was very white.

"Why have you come back here to-night?" she asked in a low tone; and
then, suddenly, a fear, a terror in her voice, as the Flopper's warning
flashed upon her: "Thornton--you have seen Thornton?"

"Yes," he said, surprised a little that she should know; "I saw Thornton
a few minutes ago."

She came toward him now and clutched his arm.

"What have you done?" she cried tensely. "Answer me! You--you met him on
your way here?"

It was a moment before Madison replied. He had schooled himself of
course for more than this, yet the words hurt--that was why she had
asked for Thornton--she was afraid that he had harmed the man.

"No," he said; "I did not meet him. I think you must have been longer
here on that bench than you imagined--haven't you? He came to my room."

"Your room! What for? Tell me!"

Madison smiled with grave whimsicality.

"To call me a gentleman and repose a trust."

She stepped back again, uncertainly.

"I do not know what you are talking about," she said in a strained way.
"And you are talking very strangely."

"Yes," he said. "Everything is strange to-night. It is like a new world,
and--and I have not found my way--yet."

She drew back still further.

"Are you mad?" she whispered.

"No," he answered. "Not now--that Is past."

She looked at him for a little time; and, her hands joined before her,
her fingers locked and interlocked nervously.

"And--and Thornton?" she asked, at last.

"It was a trust," said Madison slowly; "but it was betrayed before it
was given. He did not know--the game. He did not know what was
between--you and me."

"No," she said--and the word came almost inaudibly.

"And so," he said, "I will tell you, for it cannot matter now in any
case. He told me that he had asked you to marry him to-night--and that
you had refused."

Madison paused, and swept his hand across his forehead--his voice
somehow had suddenly grown hoarse, beyond control.

"Yes," she said--and reached again for the back of the bench, supporting
herself against it.

"He is going away," Madison continued; "and he is to send more money
here for the 'cause'--when I ask for it--only you are not to know,
because you might be diffident about taking it after refusing him."

She stared at him numbly--there was no sar