in the
late afternoons in that regard. It was as though he might have but
thrown aside his big sculptor's over-dress, for he was in loose white
shirt with flowing tie, and belted trousers. Usually she liked him
like that; it seemed to accentuate, bring out, unfetter the splendid
physique of the man; but now--she shrugged her shoulders with
well-affected composure. Myrna Bliss was too self-poised to be swept
from her feet by any situation. Jean was acting very strangely! What
was the matter with him? She stripped off her gloves coolly, and
tossed her outer wraps on a chair.

"You have been working long hours to-day perhaps, Jean"--her voice
expressed cold disapproval--"you are not dressed yet."

Jean's hand swept the great shocks of hair back from his forehead, and
again he laughed in the same low way.

"I have not been working to-day. I have been waiting--for five
o'clock."

What did he mean? She was genuinely disturbed now. Had he been
drinking--after the reception--through the night--and since? He was
certainly not himself! It was outrageous, if it were not in fun, that
he had locked the door! She walked across the room to the bell-cord
and pulled it. The bell rang clamorously in the concierge's apartment
below.

"I will have Hector prepare some coffee, while you are upstairs
dressing, Jean," she said imperiously. "Now, go and dress. You are
behaving in a most peculiar manner."

He made no answer--only stood there looking at her, his head thrown
back on his powerful shoulders, his eyes still abnormally bright,
though the flush was receding now from the strong, handsome face, that,
as it grew white, grew very set. Where was Hector? She pulled the
cord again. Again the bell jangled in the concierge's below.

"Hector and Madame Mi-mi, his wife, are on a holiday--with five francs
apiece in their pockets--at the Bois, I think--to celebrate last
night"--he jerked out the words in a colourless, even way.

She noticed that his lips twitched, that the knuckles of his hands were
white because his hands at his sides were so tightly clenched. He had
sent Hector and madame away--she was quite alone in the place with him.
What did it mean? Jean had never been like this before. But she was
at least quite mistress of herself! She drew herself up, walked back
across the room, picked up her gloves and wraps, and returned to the
door.

"Open that door!" she commanded levelly. "What do you mean by actin