ould no longer see. It was either Lloyd or Ferriss. He
must choose between them.

Bennett went to the door of the room, closed it and leaned against it.

"No," he said.

Lloyd was stricken speechless. For the instant she shrank before him as
if from a murderer. Bennett now knew precisely the terrible danger in
which he left the man who was his dearest friend. Would he actually
consent to his death? It was almost beyond belief, and for the moment
Lloyd herself quailed before him. Her first thoughts were not of
herself, but of Ferriss. If he was Bennett's friend he was her friend
too. At that very moment he might be dying for want of her care. She was
fast becoming desperate. For the moment she could put all thought of
herself and of her own dignity in the background.

"What is it you want?" she cried. "Is it my humiliation you ask? Well,
then, you have it. It is as hard for me to ask favours as it is for you.
I am as proud as you, but I entreat you, you hear me, as humbly as I
can, to let me go. What do you want more than that? Oh, can't you
understand? While we talk here, while you keep me here, he may be dying.
Is it a time for arguments, is it a time for misunderstandings, is it a
time to think of ourselves, of our own lives, our own little affairs?"
She clasped her hands. "Will you please--can I, can I say more than
that; will you please let me go?"

"No."

With a great effort Lloyd tried to regain her self-control. She paused a
moment, then:

"Listen!" she said. "You say that you love me; that I am more to you
than even Mr. Ferriss, your truest friend. I do not wish to think of
myself at such a time as this, but supposing that you should make
me--that I should consent to leave my patient. Think of me then,
afterward. Can I go back there to the house, the house that I built? Can
I face the women of my profession? What would they think of me? What
would my friends think of me--I who have held my head so high? You will
ruin my life. I should have to give up my profession. Oh, can't you see
in what position you would place me?" Suddenly the tears sprang to her
eyes. "No!" she cried vehemently. "No, no, no, I will not, I will not be
disgraced!"

"I have no wish to disgrace you," answered Bennett. "It is strange for
you to say that to me, if I love you so well that I can give up Ferriss
for--"

"Then, if you love me so much as that, there must be one thing that you
would set even above my life. Do you wish to