Though he toyed aimlessly with some small silver object on the table and did not look up, her words sent a tremor through his frame.  The Wise Man within him was very eloquent, repeating again and again the sentence she herself had used a minute or two ago:  What more could he ask of her?  What more could he ask of her, indeed, after this assurance right out of the earnestness and honesty of her pure heart?  It was enough to satisfy men with far greater claims than he had ever put forth, and far more pretension than he had ever dreamed of cherishing.  The Wise Man supplied him with two or three phrases of reply—­neat little phrases, that would have bound her forever, and yet saved his self-esteem.  He turned them over in his mind and on his tongue, trying to add a touch of glamour while he kept them terse.  He could feel the Wise Man fidgeting impatiently, just as he could feel her flaming, expectant eyes upon him; and still he toyed with the small silver object aimlessly, conscious of a certain bitter joy in his soul’s suspense.  He had not yet looked up, nor polished the Wise Man’s phrases to his taste, when a footman threw the door open, and Norrie Ford himself walked in.

The meeting was saved from awkwardness chiefly by Ford’s own lack of embarrassment.  As he crossed the room and shook hands, first with Miriam, then with Conquest, there was a subdued elation in his manner and glance that reduced small considerations to nothing.

“No; I won’t sit down,” he explained, hurriedly, and not without excitement, “because I only looked in for a minute.  I’ve got a cab waiting for me outside.  The fact is, I ran in to say good-bye.”

“Good-bye?” Miriam questioned.

“Not for long, I hope.  I’m off—­to give myself up.”

“But why to-night?” Conquest asked.  “What’s the rush?”

“Only that I want to get my word in first.  They’ve got their eye on me.  I thought it yesterday, and I know it to-day.  I want them to see that I’m not afraid of them, and so I’m asking their hospitality for to-night.  I’ve got my bag in the cab, and everything ship-shape.  I couldn’t do it without coming round for a last word with you, old man; and I was going to see you afterward, Miss Strange.  But since I’ve found you here——­”

“You won’t have to,” she finished, brightly.  “I’m glad to be able to save your time.  I’m confident we’re not losing you for long; and as I know you’re eager, I can only wish you God-speed, and be glad to see you go”

She held out her hand, frankly, strongly, as one who has no fear.

“Now,” she added, turning to Conquest, “I’ll ask you to see me to my motor.  I shall leave you and Mr Ford together, as I know you must have some last detail to arrange.”

Ford protested, but she gathered up her gloves and furs, and both men accompanied her to the street.

It was an autumn evening, drizzling and dark.  Up and down Fifth Avenue the wet pavements reflected the electric lamps like blurred mirrors.  There were few passengers on foot, but an occasional motor whizzed weirdly out of the dark and into it.  It was because there were no other people to be seen that two men standing in the rain attracted the attention of the three who descended Conquest’s steps together.