trotting
alertly beside him, he owned to himself that a cup of hot coffee,
followed by a sleep, would be welcome indeed.

He let himself softly into the house and proceeded to make some coffee
with the aid of the gas-ring. He was gulping it down, feeling the liquid
driving the cold out of his bones, when Olga growled faintly; and
looking up, he saw his wife standing in the doorway surveying him
maliciously.

"Well? Has the lost lamb been found and returned to the fold?" Her tone
was mockery itself.

"No." For an instant he wondered whether he should accuse her of her
treachery; but suddenly he resolved to wait till he was more normal,
after a rest.

"Really? Well, I don't think she will return just yet. I expect the next
time her loving husband meets our dear Toni, the Divorce Court will be
their meeting-place."

A wave of anger swept over Herrick.

"So that man was right--it was your doing." He put down his cup and
looked steadily at her. "It was through your--your advice that that
unfortunate girl left her home and wont off with Dowson."

"It wasn't through my advice," she said. "As a matter of fact I didn't
know they had fixed it up so quickly. Three days ago it was only a vague
notion--quite in the air, I assure you. I had no idea it had actually
come off."

"You knew, then, that it was a possibility, at least?"

"Yes." Suddenly she stopped and stared at him. "But how do you know? She
didn't leave any message, I suppose?"

"I know because Mrs. Rose's heart failed her when she had taken the
first step. She gave this man Dowson the slip at Stratton and he
immediately returned to Greenriver to ask if she had come back."

"And she hadn't?"

"Of course not." He spoke sternly. "Between you, you have made it almost
impossible for that poor child to return unless her husband fetches her.
Why you should have sought to ruin their homes I confess I fail to
understand. Neither Rose nor his wife had done you any harm."

"No." She stared sombrely at him. "That's true, I suppose. But--oh, you
can't understand, of course."

"Understand what, Eva?" He tried to speak gently, aware through all her
mockery of something piteous, tragic in her attitude.

"You can't understand how I hate to see happiness." She threw back her
head and beneath her white wrapper he saw her breast heave stormily. "I
was happy once, before those men sent me to prison. I used to sing and
laugh--as Toni did--I used to enjoy every moment of m