red in a blouse and skirt----"; but he
interrupted the sentence with an uplifted hand.

"I've a fancy we'll cut cross talking," he said, "and come to grips."

"About what?"

"This young fellow Barraclough has cut ice with you?"

"I thought you knew my feelings about him."

"To borrow from your vocabulary--'one changes,'" he replied.

"I haven't changed."

"Glad to hear it."

"I admire his pluck."

"It's a dangerous quality--admiration. Sure the old 'pash' hasn't
looked up a bit?"

"Quite sure."

"Still it 'curred to me you were shaken some at the treatment we're
serving out to him."

"That's not surprising. I merely wanted to get my own back,
not--not----" She left the sentence unfinished.

Ezra P. Hipps took a cigar from his waistcoat pocket and chewed it
reflectively, his eyes never leaving the girl's face.

"Women are queer ships," he said, "and never too even on the keel.
You've an important hand to play and kind of to keep your mind from
revoking here's a proposition to think over."

"Revoking?"

"That's the word. You're in this deal on a jealousy outfit and we're
not after any renunciation, splendid sacrifice and that gear. We want
you dead hard and seemed to me to get that I might do well to tie you
up a bit closer to the cause."

"What do you suggest?"

"You're an ambitious woman."

"I suppose so."

"I suggest this child." And he tapped his chest with the chewed butt
of the cigar.

"I don't see----"

"This child thrown in as a sweetener."

For a moment she flushed, then the colour died away and was replaced by
a smile distinctly crooked at the corners.

"Are you making a proposal of marriage?" she asked.

"I sure am."

"Oh!"

He stretched his legs and rattled the coins in his pockets.

"I've a hell of a lot of money and damn! I've never asked a woman this
question up to yet."

"Have you not?"

"Mention that fact 'cos I know they fall for molasses."

"You're very wise about women, Mr. Hipps."

But the irony was wasted.

"I read a bit of heart stuff in the trains sometimes," he said.

Auriole began to draw on her gloves.

"Isn't this rather a queer place to settle one's future?" she said.

"Donno--is it? Struck me it 'ud keep you from side-stepping having me
on the horizon."

"I see. And do you always mix love making with business?"

"Sure. Marriage is a business and bank books talk sweeter than the
long haired boys."

She flashed a glance up at him