Mary held her pale face steadily upon Clifford. “I suppose, Jack, Mr. Clifford might as well know the truth.”

“After what he’s seen I guess he knows it.” Young Morton, a glowing smile on his pleasant face, held out his hand. “Congratulate me, Bob!”

Clifford took the hand. “You—you are married?”

“We are going to be—as soon as it’s safe.”

“Safe?”

“You see my—”

“Mr. Clifford does not need to know that,” Mary quickly interrupted.

“Why—” Clifford stared; gulped. “I did not even know you were acquainted.”

“We were not, till three months ago.” Morton grinned happily. He slipped his arm about Mary and Mary allowed it to remain. “Remember my[45] telling you the other night about my being away, far from the madding crowd?—in a place where they don’t raise a thing but isolation? Well, that’s where I met Mary—at Pine Mountain Lodge. Wasn’t that some coincidence, Bob?”

[45]

Clifford agreed that it was. He looked searchingly at Mary; but her pale, proud face met his eyes with a steadfast gaze that was blank of any offer to apologize or explain.

“Here’s wishing you luck, Morton,” Clifford said with a control that surprised himself. He gave Mary Regan a look that was quite as composed as her own. “And you, Miss Regan, I hope that all your best dreams come true.”

He maintained his control until he had managed a very decent exit. But out in the corridor, he leaned against the wall, a very sick man, with ejaculations and questions stabbing him through and through. This, then, was what his long waiting had come to, his hopes and his dreams of a different Mary Regan! This affair with Jack Morton, a good enough fellow of his sort, that was her plan!... Yes, but what lay behind that plan?... And did she care for Morton?... And why had she not frankly written him of her purpose?... And Peter Loveman, where did Loveman come in?... And Bradley, guide and protector of young Morton, what might be Bradley’s part?... And what kind of person, after these months, was really behind that exterior which Mary Regan had presented him?...

[46]In bitter revulsion Clifford 

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