; "it's
safer for you to figure as _my_ correspondent than as my wife's
co-respondent--L-let go of me! W-what the devil are you d-d-doing--"

For Selwyn had him fast--one sinewy hand twisted in his silken collar,
holding him squirming at arm's length.

"M-murder!" stammered Mr. Ruthven.

"No," said Selwyn, "not this time. But be very, very careful after
this."

And he let him go with an involuntary shudder, and wiped his hands on
his handkerchief.

Ruthven stood quite still; and after a moment the livid terror died out
in his face and a rushing flush spread over it--a strange, dreadful
shade, curiously opaque; and he half turned, dizzily, hands outstretched
for self-support.

Selwyn coolly watched him as he sank on to the couch and sat huddled
together and leaning forward, his soft, ringed fingers covering his
impurpled face.

Then Selwyn went away with a shrug of utter loathing; but after he had
gone, and Ruthven's servants had discovered him and summoned a
physician, their master lay heavily amid his painted draperies and
cushions, his congested features set, his eyes partly open and
possessing sight, but the whites of them had disappeared and the eyes
themselves, save for the pupils, were like two dark slits filled with
blood.

There was no doubt about it; the doctors, one and all, knew their
business when they had so often cautioned Mr. Ruthven to avoid sudden
and excessive emotions.

That night Selwyn wrote briefly to Mrs. Ruthven:

"I saw your husband this afternoon. He is at liberty to inform you
of what passed. But in case he does not, there is one detail which
you ought to know: your husband believes that you once paid a visit
to my apartments. It is unlikely that he will repeat the accusation
and I think there is no occasion for you to worry. However, it is
only proper that you should know this--which is my only excuse for
writing you a letter that requires no acknowledgment. Very truly
yours,

"PHILIP SELWYN."

To this letter she wrote an excited and somewhat incoherent reply; and
rereading it in troubled surprise, he began to recognise in it
something of the strange, illogical, impulsive attitude which had
confronted him in the first weeks of his wedded life.

Here was the same minor undertone of unrest sounding ominously through
every line; the same illogical, unhappy attitude which implied so much
and said so little, leaving him uneasy and dis