be a business deal, we ceased to be gentlemen and became mere bargainers, for whom such things as words of honour do not exist. No, you have given yourself into my hands, Archdeacon, and I propose to use my advantage quite ruthlessly. So settle seven hundred a year on Chloë and, as soon as we are married, I will accept responsibility for your awful novel. My position among writers will, of course, be seriously compromised; but I would suffer worse than that to obtain Chloë, and I am young enough, thank Heaven, to live the disgrace down. At least, I hope and believe so."
The Archdeacon turned black. "You unscrupulous young scoundrel," he cried. "Would you extort money from me by threats?"
"Certainly," said Dunkle, "I would commit any crime to get Chloë, short of