that Miss Lawrence wrote this?" I asked. "None whatever," answered Curtiss, with a quick shake of the head. "It's her writing—I knew it instantly." I read the note again, and, satisfied that I had it almost by heart, handed it back to him. "Of course, Mr. Curtiss," I said, "you must decide one thing before we go any farther. Will you try to follow her, even though she expressly forbids it?" He sat with knitted brow and quivering mouth, reading the note word by word. "Yes," he said brokenly, at last. "Yes, I'll try to follow her. I'll do everything I can to find her. I can't live without her!" "But if the marriage be really impossible?" I suggested. "Impossible!" and he turned upon me hotly. "How could it be? What could make it impossible? I tell you, sir, there's nothing on earth can keep us apart." "But this," and I leaned forward and tapped the note. "Yes—that—I can't explain it. At least, the only explanation I can give is that it's a hideous mistake." "A mistake? But Miss Lawrence wasn't an emotional woman?" I questioned. "Not a woman to be carried away by a moment's passion?" "Oh, no! Quite the contrary." "Not a woman who would jump at a conclusion?" I persisted. "Not a woman who would condemn a man unheard—who would overlook the possibility of mistake and be convinced by what we lawyers call circumstantial evidence?" "She was not such a woman at all," he said decidedly. "She was just the opposite of all that." "That makes it more difficult," I pointed out. "I know; I've thought it all out, as well as I'm able—only there's a blank wall I can't get past. Besides, if there's a reason, I have the right to know it." "Yes," I assented heartily. "Undoubtedly you have the right to know it. There we're on solid ground. Well, that point is settled, then. And now I must ask you another question, Mr. Curtiss, which you may resent, but which it is absolutely necessary I should ask if I'm to be of any help to you." "I think I can guess what it is, Mr. Lester," and he smiled grimly. "Since Marcia
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