he table
between them, remarking,--

"You may put your hands down now, Mr. ----?"

He hesitated, decided that it was unwise to give any of his names; and
respecting his scruples she said with great magnanimity:--

"Of course you wouldn't want to tell me your name, so don't trouble about
that."

She sat, wholly tranquil, her arms upon the table, both hands caressing
the small automatic, while his own revolver, of different pattern and
larger caliber, lay close by. His status was now established as that of a
gentleman making a social call upon a lady who, in the pleasantest manner
imaginable and yet with undeniable resoluteness, kept a deadly weapon
pointed in the general direction of his person.

A clock on the mantel struck eleven with a low, silvery note. Muriel
waited for the last stroke and then spoke crisply and directly.

"We were speaking of that letter I left lying here on the table. You
didn't understand it, of course; you couldn't--not really. So I will
explain it to you. My husband and I married against our fathers' wishes;
both of them were opposed to it."

She waited for this to sink into his perturbed consciousness. The Hopper
frowned and leaned forward to express his sympathetic interest in this
confidential disclosure.

"My father," she resumed, "is just as stupid as my father-in-law and they
have both continued to make us just as uncomfortable as possible. The
cause of the trouble is ridiculous. There's nothing against my husband or
me, you understand; it's simply a bitter jealousy between the two men due
to the fact that they are rival collectors."

The Hopper stared blankly. The only collectors with whom he had enjoyed
any acquaintance were persons who presented bills for payment.

"They are collectors," Muriel hastened to explain, "of ceramics--precious
porcelains and that sort of thing."

"Yes'm," assented The Hopper, who hadn't the faintest notion of what she
meant.

"For years, whenever there have been important sales of these things,
which men fight for and are willing to die for--whenever there has been
something specially fine in the market, my father-in-law--he's Mr.
Talbot--and Mr. Wilton--he's my father--have bid for them. There are
auctions, you know, and people come from all over the world looking for a
chance to buy the rarest pieces. They've explored China and Japan hunting
for prizes and they are experts--men of rare taste and judgment--what you
call connoisseurs."

The