is oriental retreat, giving them a view of the
lobby without exposing them to the rough talk of the men, was common
ground for the women of the hotel, and as she looked over the railing
Mary was distinctly conscious of the chic Mrs. Jepson, sitting near.
Mrs. Jepson, as the wife of the Tecolote Superintendent, was in a
social class by herself and, even after Mary's startling rise to a
directorship in the Company, Mrs. Jepson still thought of her as a
typist. Still a certain feeling of loyalty to her husband, and a
natural fear for his job, had prompted Mrs. Jepson, in so far as
possible, to overlook this mere accident of occupation. And behind her
too-sweet smile there was another motive--her woman's curiosity was
piqued. Not only did this deaf girl, this ordinary typist, hold the
fate of her husband in her hand, but she could, if she wished, marry
Rimrock Jones himself and become the wife of a millionaire. And yet
she did not do it. This was out of the ordinary, even in Mrs. Jepson's
stratum of society, and so she watched her, discreetly.

The train 'bus dashed up outside the door and the usual crowd of people
came in. There was a whiff of cold air, for the winter night was keen,
and then a strange woman appeared. She walked in with a presence,
escorted by Jepson, who was returning from a flying trip East; and
immediately every eye, including Mrs. Jepson's, was shifted and riveted
upon her. She was a tall, slender woman in a black picture-hat and
from the slope of her slim shoulders to the high heels of her slippers
she was wrapped in a single tiger skin. Not a Bengal tiger with black
and tawny stripes, but a Mexican tiger cat, all leopard spots and red,
with gorgeous rosettes in five parallel rows that merged in the pure
white of the breast. It was a regal robe, fit to clothe a queen, and
as she came in, laughing, she displayed the swift, undulating stride of
the great beast which had worn that fine skin.

They came down to the desk and the men who had preceded them gave way
to let her pass. She registered her name, meanwhile making some gay
answer to a jesting remark from Jepson who laid aside his dignity to
laugh. The clerk joined the merriment, whereupon it was instantly
assumed that the lady was quite correct. But women, so they say, are
preternaturally quick to recognize an enemy of the home. As Mary gazed
down she became suddenly conscious of a sharp rapping on the balcony
rail and, looking up, sh