ng together over their cigarettes, but Trowse
was a keen watcher, and he saw things which were hardly apparent to a
casual observer. Powers had altered during the last few months. There
were curious lines about his mouth, his eyes were a little sunken, his
geniality was a trifle forced. Trowse smiled grimly.

"Conscience!" he muttered to himself. "Powers was never quite free from
the sentimentalities of life. What a fool to trifle with such an
opportunity!"

He waited for his chance, and moved up presently to his host's table.
Powers welcomed him, but without heartiness. It happened that for the
moment the two were virtually isolated. Trowse leaned over toward the
other.

"How does the great experiment go?" he asked, in a low tone.

Powers visibly flinched. He glanced around him nervously.

"I want to talk to you about her, Trowse," he said. "I can't expect your
sympathy, and you can't help me--you nor any other man. But I've got to
talk to some one--or go mad."

Trowse nodded with the air of a Sphinx. "Well?"

"She is so horribly changed," Powers said. "Can't you see it? Of course
you can't judge because you did not know her before. Trowse, I feel like
a man who has created a monster, who has breathed life into some evil
thing and let it loose upon the world."

Trowse smiled grimly.

"Personally," he said, "I admit that I am no judge. I understand,
however, that society in general scarcely takes the same view of Miss
Hardinge. Isn't she supposed to be rather a beauty?"

Powers beat impatiently with his hand upon the table.

"You know that I am not talking about her looks. She's beautiful enough
to bewitch every man who comes near her--and she does it."

"It must be a little inconvenient for you," Trowse remarked. "Beyond
that, I scarcely see your point."

"Man, you have eyes," Powers exclaimed, with subdued passion. "I have
seen you studying her closely when you fancied yourself undisturbed. You
can see what I see. She is like a marvelous piece of mechanism. The
working of it is perfect, but it isn't human. She is ready to be amused
at anything; she is never serious for a single moment. She is only alive
upon the sensuous side. Confound it, Trowse, don't look at me like that.
She has no soul. There is nothing alight inside."

Trowse broke the short silence.

"I am to take it, then," he said coldly, "that you abandon the
experiment. In your present condition it is, I suppose, inevitable. You
have lost