Not far from the door of Zélie Marks's room another door stood open. Marise would have whirled past it without noticing, had not her name been called.

She turned her head, with a slight start, and saw Severance.

"Come here a moment, my dear one," he said. "I have to speak to you."

Marise hesitated. Her brain was not clear. She felt dazed, as if Zélie had boxed her ears, as she had boxed Tony's earlier. She longed for sympathy. No one—not even Garth himself!—had ever been so horrid to her before, as Zélie had.

Severance took her hand and drew her gently over the threshold into a private sitting-room much like Miss Marks's. Then, when she was safely inside the room, he shut the door, locked it, and jerked out the key.

"Tony!" cried Marise. She felt as if some scene in one of her plays had come true. Except that—Tony wasn't the villain who locked the heroine in. Surely he wasn't the villain!

"This isn't the right time for a joke," she said.

"And this isn't a joke," said Severance.

"Well, unlock the door at once, please, and let me out," she insisted. "I must go——"

"Where must you go?" he asked.

"Where! Ho—back, of course."

"To Garth—after what happened between us three at his house this evening? It's impossible for you to go back to him, Marise. He can't expect it himself. When you came away to-night—if he knew you came—he must have known the whole thing was finished, the farce played out."

The girl felt as if a chilly breeze blew over her. She did not answer for a moment. She was wondering in an awed way if Tony were right. Was that the reason Garth had let her go so easily, to answer Zélie's note in person? But no. He had only just reminded her the moment before how he'd never intended giving her up to Severance. Still—when she thought of it—what was there to go back for, unless she intended to stay married to Garth—to be married to him as other women were married to their husbands?

She had never contemplated that, even at the times—and there had been times—when she'd admired Garth, admired him with a secret thrill. Besides, no matter how much Garth had wanted her, in the first throes of his infatuation, he didn't want her now—for good. Oh, such an end to the play wasn't to be dreamed of, from whichever side you looked at it!

"If I go away anywhere from Vision House, it will be to my mother," she said at last.

"Yes, of course. That's where I'm going to take you. We'll go to-night. There's a train we——"

"I can't possibly go with you!" she cried. "Don't you see, to do that would cause the very scandal we've all sacrificed so much to prevent?"

"I do see," said Tony. "But you said yourself to-day that 'everything had changed.' We don't need to be afraid of scandal any more. It can't hurt us now. It will do us good. Marise, I've been thinking things over, and I believe that the only way we can get that brute to free you is by deliberately making a scandal. All the trouble comes from your throwing yourself at the fellow's head in such a hurry. If you'd waited, ?none dying when she did would have made your marriage useless. You and I would both have been free——"

"We were both free before you decided you'd have to marry ?none," broke in Marise.

"That was different. I was in debt and hadn't a penny to play with. I couldn't live on you. Now my debts are paid, and though they've not left me a very rich man, I've got something to go on with——"

"You have, because Jack Garth won't take your money."

"Oh, wouldn't he, if he could get it?"

"No!"

"Well, again, there'd be no question of money at present between him and me if you'd waited, and hadn't tangled yourself up in this beastly knot to spite me. Now I'll have to get you out of the tangle as best I can. You can't do it yourself, and Garth will hang on to you for the same motive you had—spite, if nothing more. Go with me to-night. Be brave. Make a scandal. Then for the sake of that mother of his—and for his pride if he has any, if not, for the appearance of it—he'll free you."

Marise was very pale. "A little while ago," she said, "you spoke of Zélie Marks being here to give—an excuse for divorce."

"Yes. That seems the likely thing. Garth probably arranged it when he expected money from me, to make divorce worth his while. Now we've had a row, more or less, and he knows that at best he can't get much. His cry is 'all or nothing.' He won't use Miss Marks as a pretext."

"I tell you he never intended to accept money!" insisted Marise.

"That's a new opinion of yours, isn't it?"

"I never felt he would touch it. But I didn't know surely. Now I do."

"I wonder how?"

"I do—that's all."

"Well, by Jove; I never expected to hear you taking Garth's part against me!" Tony exploded.

"I'm not doing that," Marise said. "We've all been horrid and detestable in this business, you and I, and even poor Mums—for my sake——"

"What about Garth? Is he on a higher plane?"

"Yes, he is!" exclaimed the girl. "He loved me once. He wanted to marry me then—just for love. How he felt afterwards—or how he feels now—I don't know. But—he's not a beast."

"And I am?"

"Oh, I put myself and Mums in the same box with you. I'm saying nothing of you I don't say of ourselves."

"Well, so be it!" said Severance. "I'm a beast, if you like, and you're the female of my kind. All the more reason why you belong to me. Nothing shall separate us again. Even if we can't marry——"

"Let me go out of this room!" the girl cried sharply.

"No! Your mother approved of my plan, I tell you, Marise. She saw it was the only way, for me to take you——"

"I don't believe it! There's not an unconventional drop of blood in Mums' veins. If she wanted me to be 'taken' anywhere, it would be to her. She would have come to this hotel, and received me. Then, perhaps, I would have stayed—but not for you. I don't love you, Tony! I've discovered that. I wouldn't marry you if I could."

"You're out of your senses!" he cried. "You may think what you say at this minute, because you're angry. But your heart's mine. I won't let you go——"

"If you don't, I'll scream," threatened Marise. "Open that door at once, or I'll yell at the top of my lungs."

"I don't think you will," said Severance. "You don't like scenes, except on the stage. Besides, I don't care a damn if you do yell. It won't change things in the end."

The girl's answer was to lift her voice and shriek as only a trained actress can shriek.

Instantly, before she had reached her highest note, Garth stepped over the low window-sill.

"I was waiting for that," he said. "I knew you were here, Marise, so I lurked on the loggia. Unlock that door, Severance."

The other man was olive grey with rage and disappointment. It occurred to Marise that he looked seasick.

"Unlock the damned thing yourself!" he spat, and flung the key on the floor.

It landed near Garth's feet. But Garth did not stoop.

"Pick up the key," he said quietly.

"I'm damned if I will!" sputtered Severance.

"Not so many damns, please," said Garth. "They bore me." He took a Browning from his pocket and aimed it neatly at the centre of Severance's forehead. "Better pick up the key," he added.

Severance picked it up.

"Now unlock the door."

Severance unlocked it, and walked out into the hall. Then he slammed the door after him. Voices were............