ess finesse where his
desires figured, a man who got what he wanted by whatever means most
fitly served his need. Greater than any craving to possess a woman would
be the measure of his rancor against a man who humiliated him, thwarted
him. She could understand how a man like Monohan would hate a man like
Jack Fyfe, would nurse and feed on the venom of his hate until setting a
torch to Fyfe's timber would be a likely enough counterstroke.

She shrank from the thought. Yet it lingered until she felt guilty.
Though it made no material difference to her that Fyfe might or might
not face ruin, she could not, before her own conscience, evade
responsibility. The powder might have been laid, but her folly had
touched spark to the fuse, as she saw it. That seared her like a pain
far into the night. For every crime a punishment; for every sin a
penance. Her world had taught her that. She had never danced; she had
only listened to the piper and longed to dance, as nature had fashioned
her to do. But the piper was sending his bill. She surveyed it wearily,
emotionally bankrupt, wondering in what coin of the soul she would have
to pay.

CHAPTER XXIII

A RIDE BY NIGHT

Stella sang in the gilt ballroom of the Granada next afternoon, behind
the footlights of a miniature stage, with the blinds drawn and a few
hundred of Vancouver's social elect critically, expectantly listening.
She sang her way straight into the heart of that audience with her
opening number. This was on Wednesday. Friday she sang again, and
Saturday afternoon.

When she came back to her room after that last concert, wearied with the
effort of listening to chattering women and playing the gracious lady to
an admiring contingent which insisted upon making her last appearance a
social triumph, she found a letter forwarded from Seattle. She slit the
envelope. A typewritten sheet enfolded a green slip,--a check. She
looked at the figures, scarcely comprehending until she read the letter.

"We take pleasure in handing you herewith," Mr. Lander wrote for the
firm, "our check for nineteen thousand five hundred dollars,
proceeds of oil stock sold as per your telegraphed instructions,
less brokerage charges. We sold same at par, and trust this will be
satisfactory."

She looked at the check again. Nineteen thousand, five hundred--payable
to her order. Two years ago such a sum would have lifted her to
plutocratic heights, filled her with ple