"It can be done perhaps to-morrow night," Edith said in a secret rage,
wondering what Arthur Dillon could have seen in Sonia. "But bear in mind
why I am doing this scene, with the prospects of a furious time
afterwards with Dillon. I want you to see him asleep, just for ten
minutes, in the light of a strong lamp. In sleep there is no disguise.
When he is dressed for a part and playing it, the sharpest eyes, even
the eyes of hate, may not be able to escape the glamour of the disguise.
The actor asleep is more like himself. You shall look into his face, and
turn it from side to side with your own hands. If you do not catch some
feeling from that, strike a resemblance, I shall feel like giving up."

"La, but you are an audacious creature," said Sonia, and the triviality
of the remark sent Edith into wild laughter. She would like to have
bitten the beauty.

The detective consented to Edith's plans, in his anxiety to bring the
farce to an end before the element of danger grew. Up to this point they
might appeal to Arthur for mercy. Later the dogs would be upon them. As
yet no sign of irritation on Arthur's part had appeared. The day after
the oration on the sorrows of Erin he sent a note to Curran announcing
his intention to call the same evening. Edith, amazed at her own courage
in playing with the fire which in an instant could destroy her, against
the warning of her husband, was bent on carrying out the scene.

Dearly she loved the dramatic off the stage, spending thought and time
in its arrangement. How delicious the thought of this man and his wife
meeting under circumstances so wondrous after five years of separation.
Though death reached her the next moment she would see it. The weakness
of the plot lay in Sonia's skepticism and Arthur's knowledge that a trap
was preparing. He would brush her machinery aside like a cobweb, but
that did not affect the chance of his recognition by Sonia.

Dillon had never lost his interest in the dancer and her husband. They
attracted him. In their lives ran the same strain of madness, the
madness of the furies, as in his own. Their lovable qualities were not
few. Occasionally he dropped in to tease Edith over her lack of
conscience, or her failures, and to discuss the cause of freedom with
the smooth and flinty Curran. Wild humans have the charm of their
wilderness. One must not forget their teeth and their claws. This night
the two men sat alone. Curran filled the glasses and pas