ve of passion there was an instant
and portentous change in their attitudes. The soft protectiveness which
had sometimes seemed to shine out of her face, to envelop him in its
warmth, had disappeared. She was no longer the stronger. She looked at
him almost with fear, and he was electrically conscious of all the vigour
and strength of his stunted manhood, was master at last of his fate,
accepting battle, willing to fight whatever might come for the sake of
the joy of these moments. She crept into his arms almost humbly.

CHAPTER III

The success of "The House of Shams" was as immediate and complete as was
the social success of its author. After a few faint-hearted attempts,
Philip and Elizabeth both agreed that the wisest course was to play the
bold game--to submit himself to the photographer, the interviewer, and,
to some judicious extent, to the wave of hospitality which flowed in upon
him from all sides. He threw aside, completely and utterly, every idea of
leading a more or less sheltered life. His photograph was in the Sunday
newspapers and the magazines. It was quite easy, in satisfying the
appetite of journalists for copious personal details, especially after
the hints dropped by Mr. Fink, to keep them carefully off the subject of
his immediate past. There had been many others in the world who, on
attaining fame, had preferred to gloss over their earlier history. It
seemed to be tacitly understood amongst this wonderful freemasonry of
newspaper men that Mr. Merton Ware was to be humoured in this way. He was
a man of the present. Character sketches of him were to be all
foreground. But, nevertheless, Philip had his trials.

"Want to introduce you to one of our chief 'movie' men," Noel Bridges
said to him one day in the smoking room of "The Lambs." "He is much
interested in the play, too. Mr. Raymond Greene, shake hands with Mr.
Merton Ware."

Mr. Raymond Greene, smiling and urbane, turned around with outstretched
hand, which Philip, courteous, and with all that charm of manner which
was making him speedily one of the most popular young men in New York,
grasped cordially.

"I am very happy to meet you, Mr. Greene," he said. "You represent an
amazing development. I am told that we shall all have to work for you
presently or find our occupation gone."

With a cool calculation which had come to Philip in these days of his
greater strength, he had purposely extended his sentence, conscious,
although apparent