the force--you hear me, every man--has had strict orders to leave
me unmolested. It seems they resent my dealings with the police in
Chicago, where I brought about the dismissal of four officers, so they
say. And so I'm to be boycotted in this manner! Is that argument, Mr.
Machin? Tell me. You're a man, but honestly, is it argument? Why, it's
just as mean and despicable as brute force."

"I agree with you," said Edward Henry, softly.

"Do they really think it will harm the militant cause? Do they
_really_ think so? No, it will only harm me. I made a mistake in
tactics. I trusted--fool!--to the chivalry of the United States. I
might have been arrested in a dozen cities, but I on purpose reserved
my last two arrests for Chicago and New York, for the sake of the
superior advertisement, you see! I never dreamt--! Now it's too late.
I am defeated! I shall just arrive in London on the hundredth day. I
shall have made speeches at all the meetings. But I shall be short of
one arrest. And the ten thousand pounds will be lost to the cause. The
militants here--such as they are--are as disgusted as I am. But they
scorn me. And are they not right? Are they not right? There should be
no quarter for the vanquished."

"Miss Joy," said Edward Henry, "I've come over from London specially
to see you. I want to make up the loss of that ten thousand pounds as
far as I can. I'll explain at once. I'm running a poetical play of
the highest merit, called 'The Orient Pearl,' at my new theatre in
Piccadilly Circus. If you will undertake a small part in it--a part
of three words only--I'll pay you a record salary, sixty-six pounds
thirteen and four-pence a word--two hundred pounds a week!"

Isabel Joy jumped up.

"Are you another of them, then?" she muttered. "I did think from the
look of you that you would know a gentlewoman when you met one!
Did you imagine for the thousandth part of one second that I would
stoop--"

"Stoop!" exclaimed Edward Henry. "My theatre is not a music-hall--"

"You want to make it into one!" she stopped him.

"Good day to you," she said. "I must face those journalists again, I
suppose. Well, even they--! I came alone in order to avoid them. But
it was hopeless. Besides, is it my duty to avoid them--after all?"

It was while passing through the door that she uttered the last words.

"Where is she?" Seven Sachs inquired, entering.

"Fled!" said Edward Henry.

"Everything all right?"

"Quite!"

Mr. Rentoul