le room before she went to lunch.

Anna herself was difficult that evening. Her landlady's son had given up
a good job and enlisted. Everybody was going. She supposed Graham would
go next, and she'd be left alone.

"I don't know. I'd like to."

"Oh, you'll go, all right. And you'll forget I ever existed." She made
an effort. "You're right, of course. I'm only looking ahead. If anything
happens to you, I'll kill myself."

The idea interested her. She began to dramatize herself, a forlorn
figure, driven from home, and deserted by her lover. She saw herself
lying in the cottage, stately and mysterious, while the hill girls went
in and out, and whispered.

"I'll kill myself," she repeated.

"Nothing will happen to me, Anna, dear."

"I don't know why I care so. I'm nothing to you."

"That's not so."

"If you cared, you'd have come up the other night. You left me alone in
that lonesome hole. It's hell, that place. All smells and whispering and
dirt."

"Now listen to me, Anna. You're tired, or you wouldn't say that. You
know I'm fond of you. But I've got you into trouble enough. I'm not--for
God's sake don't tempt me, Anna."

She looked at him half scornfully.

"Tempt you!" Then she gave a little scream. Graham following her eyes
looked through the window near them.

"Rudolph!" she whimpered. And began to weep out of pure terror.

But Graham saw nobody. To soothe her, however, he went outside and
looked about. There were half a dozen cars, a group of chauffeurs, but
no Rudolph. He went hack to her, to find her sitting, pale and tense,
her hands clenched together.

"They'll pay you out some way," she said. "I know them. They'll never
believe the truth. That was Rudolph, all right. He'll think we're living
together. He'd never believe anything else."

"Do you think he followed you the other day?"

"I gave him the shake, in the crowd."

"Then I don't see why you're worrying. We're just where we were before,
aren't we?"

"You don't know them. I do. They'll be up to something."

She was excited and anxious, and with the cocktail he ordered for her
she grew reckless.

"I'm just hung around your neck like a stone," she lamented. "You don't
care a rap for me; I know it. You're just sorry for me."

Her eyes filled again, and Graham rose, with an impatient movement.

"Let's get out of this," he said roughly. "The whole place is staring at
you."

But on the road the fact that she had been weeping for him m