High-power arc lights were strung along the roadway, and under their
white glare Kathleen stole a glance at Miller. Handsome still, she
admitted to herself, and the same broad-shouldered, athletic figure. He
was the type of man which appeals to both men and women. She caught her
breath sharply as bitter memories crowded upon her, and slipping down her
hand, drew her skirts surreptitiously away from touching Miller. If he
noted the movement he gave no sign.

As the lights of Washington appeared, the chauffeur reduced the
limousine's speed to that required by law. They were in the heart of the
resident section when a snore from Spencer explained his long silence.
The warmth and motion of the limousine, combined with his overindulgence
in wine, had lulled him to sleep. With an effort Kathleen roused herself
from her dismal reflections.

"Can I leave you anywhere, Captain--Miller?" she inquired frigidly.

"No thanks, I will walk to my hotel after I have seen you safely home."

Kathleen fumbled with the clasp of her evening wrap and stared down the
empty streets. She waited until they were approaching Lafayette Square,
then broke her silence for the second time.

"I desire that you leave me here," she stated calmly. "I am now within a
few blocks of my home." Without waiting for comment she leaned forward,
tapped upon the front window, and signaled Henry to stop.

Miller rose as the limousine drew up to the curb. "As you wish," he said
courteously. "But I do not think this man a suitable companion for you,"