The door swung wide on its hinges and Gila entered, trig and chic as usual, in a stylish little coat-suit of homespun, leather-trimmed and short-skirted, high boots, leather leggings, and a jaunty little leather cap with a bridle under her chin.  Only her petite figure and her baby face saved her from being taken for a tough young sport.  She swaggered in, chewing gum, her gauntleted hands in her pockets, her young voice flung almost coarsely into the room by the wind; the innocent look gone from her face; the eyes wide and bold; the exquisite mouth in a sensuous curve.

Behind her lounged a man older than herself by many years, with silver at his temples, daredevil eyes, and a handsome, voluptuous face.  He kicked the door shut behind him and lolled against it while he lit a cigarette.

Gila’s laugh rang harshly in the room again, following some low-toned remark, and the man laughed coarsely in reply.  Then, suddenly, she looked up and saw Courtland standing sternly there with folded arms, regarding her steadily, and her eyes grew wide with horror.

It was Courtland’s great disillusionment.

Never had he seen such fear in human face.

Gila’s skin grew gray beneath its pearly tint, her whole body shrank and cringed, her eyes were fixed upon him with terror in their gaze.

“Papers haven’t come in yet, Mr. Aquilar,” called the clerk, affably.  “Train’s late to-night.  Be in pretty soon, I reckon!”

The man growled out an imprecation on a place where the papers didn’t come till that hour in the evening, and lounged on toward the elevator.  Gila slid along by his side, her eyes on Courtland, with the air of hiding behind her companion.  Her face was drooped, and when she turned toward the elevator she drooped her eyes also, and a wave of shame rolled up and covered her face and neck and ears with a dull red beneath the pearl.  Her last glance at Courtland was the look that Eve must have had as she walked past the flaming swords, with Adam, out of Eden.  Her eyes, as she stood waiting for the boy to come to the elevator, seemed fairly to grovel on the floor.

Was this the sweet, wild, innocent flower that had held him in its thrall all the sorrowful months, and separated him from his dearest friend?

Tennelly!  Courtland had forgotten until that instant that Tennelly would be there in a few minutes!  Perhaps was even then at the door!

He strode forward, and Gila quivered as she saw him coming; quivered and looked up in terror, putting out a fearful hand to the arm of her companion.

The elevator-boy had arrived and was slamming back the steel grating.  The man stood back to let Gila enter, and she slunk past him, her gaze still held in horror on Courtland.

“Will you do me the favor to step into the little reception-room to the right for a moment?” said Courtland, addressing the man, but looking at Gila.

“The devil we will!” said the man, glaring at him.  “What right have you to ask a favor like that?”