end room. The light fell on the man's face—Harkness could see it very clearly. The other was a woman wearing a white dress. He could not see her face.
For an instant they were silent, then the man said something that Harkness could not hear.
The girl at once broke out: "No, no. Oh, please, Herrick."
She must be a very young girl. The voice was that of a child. It had in it a desperate note that held Harkness's attention instantly.
The man said something again, very low,
"But if you don't care," the girl's voice pleaded, "then let me go back. Oh, Herrick, let me go! Let me go!"
"My father does not wish it."
"But I am not married to your father. It is to you."
"My father and I are the same. What he says I must do, I do."
"But you can't be the same." Her voice now was trembling in its urgency. "No one could love their father more than I do and yet we are not the same."
"Nevertheless you did what your father asked you to do. So must I."
"But I didn't know. I didn't know. And he didn't know. He has never seen me frightened of anything, and now I am frightened.... I've
