Mrs. Boller, which
caused me to take it, sir, that she----"

"Say! I said there was no lady here and there was no lady here! Get
that, you putty-faced idiot!" Johnson Boller cried frantically, for he
was beyond reason. "What do you mean by standing there and lying and
babbling about some woman----"

Again Wilkins's intelligence manifested itself. To be a perfect servant,
one's teeth must remain in place and one's face must be free from
bruises. Wilkins, after a brief, intent look at Johnson Boller's fists,
turned and fled!

"So this," said Mrs. Johnson Boller with deadly calm, "is what happens
when you think I've gone away!"

Her husband turned upon her and threw out his hands.

"Beatrice!" he cried. "I swear to you----"

"Don't touch me, you filthy creature!" said his Beatrice. "I--I couldn't
have thought it. You seemed different from other men!"

"This woman----" Johnson Boller floundered, and then caught Anthony's
cold eye. It was an amused eye, too, and the sneer was in it; and
Johnson Boller pointed at its owner suddenly and said: "If--if there was
a woman here, blame him!"

Beatrice Boller looked Anthony Fry up and down, and her lips curled.

"I do--a little!" she said bitterly. "I've never cared very much for
you, Mr. Fry, but--oh, why did you do that? You know as well as I know
that Johnson isn't that--that sort of a man! If he wanted to come here
and stay with you, couldn't you have been, just for once--_decent_?"

"_Madam!_" thundered Anthony Fry, when breath came to him.

There was no music in Beatrice's laugh; an ungreased saw goes through
hardwood more sweetly.

"Spare yourself the effort of that righteous rage," she said. "I know
your saintly type of man so well, and I've begged Johnson to have
nothing to do with you."

"And I give you my word----" Johnson Boller began.

"That he brought the woman here?" his wife asked.

"Yes!"

"And you remained!" finished Johnson Boller's better half. "Where is
she?"

"She isn't here now!" came almost automatically from Anthony.

Once more Beatrice laughed.

"Isn't she, though?" said she. "That sort doesn't leave a twenty-dollar
hat behind, Mr. Fry--nor a bag worth perhaps five times as much. She had
moved in quite cozily, hadn't she? If I hadn't appeared, her trunk would
have been along--or perhaps it is here now? If I hadn't----" Mrs. Boller
continued, and her voice broke as the unearthly calm splintered and
departed.

"_Where is she?_" And,