“Tell me,” she said curiously, and, at the same time, she glanced in wonder, as a servant passed softly across the little room.  Was it not stranger than words could tell that such a man as John Mark should be sitting in this almost public place and pouring his soul out into the ear of a girl?

“I shall tell you,” said Mark, his voice softening.  “I have contributed half of it to charity.”

Her lips, compressed with doubt, parted in wonder.  “Charity!” she exclaimed.

“And the other half,” he went on, “I deposited in a bank to the credit of a fictitious personality.  That fictitious personality is, in flesh and blood, Ruth Tolliver with a new name.  You understand?  I have only to hand you the bank book with the list of deposits, and you can step out of this Tolliver personality and appear in a new part of the world as another being.  Do you see what it means?  If, at the last, you find you cannot marry me, my dear, you are provided for.  Not out of my charity, which would be bitter to you, but out of your own earnings.  And, lest you should be horrified at the thought of living on your earnings at the gaming table, I have thrown bread on the waters, dear Ruth.  For every dollar you have in the bank you have given another to charity, and both, I hope, have borne interest for you!”

His smile faded a little, as she murmured, with her glance going past him:  “Then I am free?  Free, John?”

“Whenever you wish!”

“Not that I ever shall wish, but to know that I am not chained, that is the wonderful thing.”  She looked directly at him again:  “I never dreamed there was so much fineness in you, John Mark, I never dreamed it, but I should have!”

“Now I have been winning Caroline to the game,” he went on, “and she is beginning to love it.  In another year, or six months, trust me to have completely filled her with the fever.  But now enters the mischief-maker in the piece, a stranger, an ignorant outsider.  This incredible man arrives and, in a few days, having miraculously run Caroline to earth, goes on and brings Caroline face to face with her lover, teaches Jerry Smith that I am his worst enemy, gets enough money to pay off his debt to me, and convinces him that I can never use my knowledge of his crime to jail him, because I don’t dare bring the police too close to my own rather explosive record.”

“I saw them both here!” said the girl.  She wondered how much he guessed, and she saw his keen eyes probe her with a glance.  But her ingenuousness, if it did not disarm him, at least dulled the edge of his suspicions.

“He was here, and the trap was laid here, and he slipped through it.  Got away through a certain room which Fernand would give a million to keep secret.  At any rate the fellow has shown that he is slippery and has a sting, too.  He sent a bullet a fraction of an inch past Fernand’s head, at one point in the little story.