ertain document together?"

He nodded, and then as she did not continue, he opened his pocketbook and
took out the release.

She made no motion to take it; on the contrary, she leaned back and
crossed her hands in her lap.

"Yes," she said, "that's it. Well, you may stay, if you care to burn that
scrap of paper."

It was now Max's turn to hesitate, for the decision of freedom or
captivity was in his own hands; the crisis he had so recklessly rushed to
meet was now upon him.

"What is in that paper?" asked Linburne, as one who has a right to
question.

Christine was perfectly good-tempered as she answered: "Well, Lee, it
still belongs to Mr. Riatt; but if he decides not to burn it, I promise
to tell you all about it as we drink our tea."

"Do you promise me that, Christine?"

"Most solemnly, Lee." She looked up at Linburne, and before Max knew what
he was doing he found he had dropped the paper into the fire.

Strangely enough, though the fire was hot, the paper did not catch at
once, but curled and rocked an instant in the heat, before it disappeared
in flame and smoke. Not until it was a black crisp did Christine turn to
Linburne, and hold out her hand.

"Good-by, Lee," she said pleasantly. But he did not answer or take her
hand. He left the room in silence.

When the door had shut behind him, Christine glanced at her remaining
visitor. "And now," she said, "I suppose you are wishing you had not."

"What sort of a woman are you?" Riatt exclaimed. "Will you take any
man that offers, me or Hickson, or Linburne or me again, just as luck
will have it?"

"I take the best that offers, Max--and that's no lie."

The implied compliment did not soften Riatt. He went on: "If you and I
are really to be married--"

"If, my dear Max! What could be more certain?"

"Since, then, we are to be married, you must tell me exactly what has
taken place between you and Linburne."

"With pleasure. Won't you sit down?" She pointed to a chair near her own,
but Riatt remained standing. "Shall we have tea first?"

"We'll have the story."

"Oh, it's not much of a story. Lee and I have known each other since
we were children. I suppose I always had it in mind that I might
marry him--"

"You loved him?"

"Certainly not. He always had too high an opinion of himself, and I used
to enjoy taking it out of him--and making it up to him afterwards, too. I
used to enjoy that as well. Sometimes, of course, he found the process
too