Beth Norvell

"Why?" she lifted her head again, facing him with questioning eyes.

"Simply because his doing so will interfere seriously with some of my

business plans--that's all."

"Then why don't you act the part of a man, and go to him yourself?

Why, in this, do you prefer hiding behind the skirts of a woman?"

Farnham laughed grimly, in no way embarrassed by the query.

"Good Lord, Lizzie! I 've been to him, all right, but the fellow is

like a stubborn mule. He has n't got but one selling-out price, so far

as I can learn, and that chances to be Beth Norvell. You see the

point? Well, that's exactly why I came here to-night. I wanted to be

able to tender him the goods."

For a moment her eyes remained pitifully pleading; then they suddenly

appeared to harden into resolute defiance. As though moving in a

dream, she arose slowly to her feet, taking a single step away from him

toward the closed door.

"As I have already explained," she paused to say coldly, "Mr. Winston

is no more to me than any other gentleman whom I may have chanced to

meet in friendship. I have not the faintest reason to suppose I could

influence his decision in any matter appertaining to his professional

work. Moreover, I have not the slightest inclination to try."

"Do you dare refuse, in spite of all I can say to your injury?" he

asked, even then doubtful of her meaning.

"I definitely decline to be your catspaw,--yes. Nothing you can relate

truthfully will ever harm me in the estimation of a gentleman, and I

shall certainly know how to combat falsehood."

"Quite pretty. Injured innocence, I perceive, is to be the line of

defence. What! are you already going?"

"I am."

"Where?"

She turned again, standing erect, her face flushing, her hand upon the

latch of the door.

"If it is imperative that you know, I will tell you. I intend seeking

Mr. Winston, and informing him exactly who and what I am."

"Now? at this hour of the night?"

"Better now, and at this hour of the night, than venture waiting until

after you have had an inning. I am not at all ashamed to confess the

truth, if I can only be the first to tell my story."

She pressed the latch of the door, her breathing so rapid as to be

positively painful. With an ill-repressed oath, Farnham sprang to his

feet, his rising anger putting an end to all prudence.