she walked over to him until her breast almost touched him. Her eyes were
half closed, and a little smile parted her full lips.

"Charley," she drawled wickedly, "I warn _you_ to go slow. And I warn you
not to interfere with me--or I might interfere with you!"

Morrell shrugged his shoulders, and turned away with an assumption of
indifference.

"Please yourself. But I can't afford a scandal just now."

"_You_ can't afford a _scandal!_" she cried, and laughed hardly.

"Not just now," he repeated.




XVIII


Perhaps this unwise antagonizing by her husband, perhaps the idleness with
which the well-to-do woman was afflicted, perhaps a genuine liking for
Keith, gave Mrs. Morrell just the impulse needed. At any rate, she used the
common bond of music to bring him much into her company. This was not a
difficult matter. Keith was extravagantly fond of just this sort of
experimental amateur excursions into lighter music, and he liked Mrs.
Morrell. She was a good sort, straightforward and honest and direct, no
nonsense in her, but she knew her way about, and a man could have a sort of
pleasing, harmless flirtation to which she knew how to play up. There was