mber, deep-blue eyes as well, whirling around and
mocking him, regarding his quite steadily and all packed with new
significance.

Yet in the tumult several details, which had rather puzzled Anthony Fry,
grew painfully clear. Very fully now did he understand that delicacy of
feature--the small, beardless chin and the fine, regular little nose,
which he had ascribed to good blood somewhere in David's family. He
understood also the slenderness of David's hands and the curious,
high-pitched shrillness that had come into the voice once or twice in
moments of excitement.

But these were minor, insignificant realizations; he understood them and
passed them, forcing his brain to some sort of calm; and now, with only
one David in the room and the furniture quite steady again, he stood
face to face with what was really one of the most horrible facts of his
whole life; a pretty young woman, of whose identity he was utterly
ignorant, was in his guest chamber now, in pajamas and bathrobe--and she
had been there all night!

Out of Anthony's limp fingers the wig dropped, landing on the floor with
a soft thump. He sought to speak and found that words would not come as
yet; he gripped at one of the little chairs and presently discovered
that his weak knees had lowered him into it, so that he sat and still
stared at David and----

"I wish you wouldn't kick that wig around," said his guest. "I only
hired it for the night, you know."

The owner of Fry's Imperial Liniment pulled at the loose collar of his
pajamas.

"You--er--you----" he said intelligently.

"I wouldn't faint," the girl said coolly. "I'm not going to bite you,
you know. And please don't make those silly faces, either, Mr. Fry.
You've brought it on yourself. I'm not here by my own choosing. I've
done my level best to get out and----"

Anthony's voice returned explosively.

"Why," he cried thickly, "_why_ didn't you tell me?"

"That I was a girl?"

"Yes!"

The lovely little mystery had kicked off her slippers and was looking
pensively at her bare feet. They were pink and tiny; as feet, however,
they belonged anywhere in the world but in Anthony Fry's bachelor home,
and he turned suddenly from them and looked at their owner, who smiled
faintly.

"You look a lot saner when you're scared," she mused.

"Why didn't----"

"I'm coming to that, just because you do look saner," the girl
explained. "I didn't tell you because I didn't dare. I thought you were
crazy