He had anticipated an argument. This promptness took him by surprise. He
felt called upon to explain, to excuse her acceptance. "I am taking a
little flyer--making a gamble," said he. "Your father may turn up
nothing of commercial value. Again the company may pay big----"

She gave him a long look through half-closed eyes, a queer smile
flitting round her lips. "I understand perfectly why you are doing it,"
she said. "Do you understand why I am accepting?"

"Why should you refuse?" rejoined he. "It is a good business prop----"

"You know very well why I should refuse. But--" She gave a quiet laugh
of experience; it made him feel that she was making a fool of him--"I
shall not refuse. I am able to take care of myself. And I want father to
have his chance. Of course, I shan't explain to him." She gave him a
mischievous glance. "And I don't think _you_ will."

He contrived to cover his anger, doubt, chagrin, general feeling of
having been outwitted. "No, I shan't tell him," laughed he. "You are
making a great fool of me."

"Do you want to back out?"

What audacity! He hesitated--did not dare. Her indifference to him--her
personal, her physical indifference gave her the mastery. His teeth
clenched and his passion blazed in his eyes as he said: "No--you witch!
I'll see it through."

She smiled lightly. "I suppose you'll come to the offices of the