_ get out of it?"

"You'll please _me_," was the caressing answer. "And--I never thought of
it before," she hastened to add, as the scar grew more conspicuous--a
sure register of his emotions--"why not ask Mr. Burroughs to get you to
Berlin, too--as first secretary or something, if we go there?" She must
throw him some encouragement. "I hate Helena. You do yourself. If we
were in Berlin, we'd be where life is--a whirl of----"

"Madness," Senator Blair finished her sentence for her, thickly. "I do
not have to go away from Helena for that sensation!" He lost control of
himself. "You drive me mad, Eva! You are more tempting than ever! Give
me one kiss--one--and I'll vote for Burroughs till hell freezes over!"
The language of the frontier returned, in his abandon.

"Not now!" The temptress was thoroughly alarmed. She had thought to
control any situation, but--Charlie's eyes--so near her own!
"Perhaps--when you have voted for----" She must secure this man's vote
for Burroughs, even if she bartered her self-respect.

"Now, by God! Now!"

"No! No!" In terror Eva gave a suppressed cry and turned to escape the
arms of the man she had maddened. With his hot lips brushing her own she
turned away her face in impotent writhing, and saw her husband standing
in the doorway.

"Pardon me," apologized Latimer, courteously, as though in a trance. He
stepped forward, closed the door and took off his coat and hat. He sat
down absently, as if he had returned after only a few hours' absence. He
took no notice of the presence of Senator Blair nor of his hasty exit.
The scene he had interrupted seemed to have no meaning for him. He could
not have told how he reached home, and his one thought was of
Danvers--his supposed Judas--and of the wife who had lived a lie even
while bearing his children.

But Eva could not know this, and strove hurriedly to form some excuse
for her predicament.

Latimer made no response to her explanations. Instead he said, quite
gently: "I'll go and see if little Arthur is asleep. I want to kiss him
good-night," and disappeared through the portieres.

Eva stood motionless, voiceless, in chill terror at her husband's
solicitude for the dead child! Had he forgotten--or was he going mad?
What had happened? What was to happen?

When Latimer returned, his eyes had lost their dazed expression. "My
name is a reproach--it is handed around by coarse gossips!" he said,
hoarsely. His look went beyond accusation.

Eva