other with more than
half of it?" The judge was scornful. "And a fellow needs a whole ring if
he is after a reward." He rolled his head waggishly. "Oh, I could have
been a crook myself!" he chuckled, but his was the only smiling face in
the party.

For Kerr's was pale, schooled to a rigid self-control.

And Harry's was crimson and swollen, as if with a sudden rush of blood.
His twitching hands, his sullen eyes, responded to Judge Buller's last
word as if it had been an accusation.

"It makes me damned sick, the way you fellows talk--as if it was the
easiest thing in the world to--" He broke off. It was such a tone,
loose, harsh and uncontrolled, as made Flora shrink.

As if he sensed that movement in her, he turned upon her furiously.

"Well, are we going to stand here all night?" He took her by the arm.

She felt as if he had struck her. Buller was staring at him, but Kerr
had opened the door through which she had entered, and now, turning his
back upon Harry, silently motioned her out.

She had a moment's fear that Harry's grasp, even then, wouldn't let go.
Indeed, for a moment he stood clutching her, as if, now that his rage
had spent itself, she was the one thing he could hold to. Then she felt
his fingers loosen. He stood there alone, looking, with his great bulk,
and his great strength, and his abashed bewilderment, rather pathetic.

But that aspect reached her dimly, for the fear of him was uppermost.
Her arm still burned where he had grasped it. She moved away from him
toward the door Kerr had opened for her. She passed from the light of
the crimson room into the dark of the passage. Some one followed her and
closed the door. Some one caught step with her. It was Kerr. He bent
his dark head to speak low.

"I don't know why you did it, you quixotic child, but you must not
expose yourself in this way, for any reason whatsoever."

The light of the crowded rooms burst upon them again.

"Oh," she turned to him beseechingly, "can't you get me away?"

"Surely." His manner was as if nothing had happened. His smile was
reassuring. "I'll call your carriage, and find Mrs. Britton."

When Flora came down from the dressing-room she found Clara already in
the carriage, and Kerr mounting guard in the hall. As he handed her in,
Clara leaned forward.

"Where is Mr. Cressy?" she inquired.

"He sent his apologies," Kerr explained. "He is not able to get away
just now."

Clara could not control a look of astonish