But Courtland was looking at Gila, and there was command in his eyes.  As if she dared not disobey she stepped forth again from the elevator, her eyes still upon him, her face gray with apprehension.  Without further word from him she walked before him, slowly, into the little room at the right that he indicated.

“You’re a fool!” said Aquilar, regarding her contemptuously, but she went as if she did not hear him.  She entered the room, walked half-way across, and turned about, facing the two who had followed.  Courtland was within the room, Aquilar lounging idly in the door, as if the matter were of little moment to him.  He had a smile of contempt still on his handsome lips.

Courtland’s manner was grave and sad.  He had the commanding presence and beauty of an avenging angel.

“Gila, are you married to this man?” he asked, looking sternly at her, as though he would search her very soul.

Gila kept her dark, horrified gaze on his face.  She was beyond trying to deceive now.  She slowly gave one shake to her head, and her white lips formed the syllable, “No!” though it was almost inaudible.

“And yet you are registered here in this hotel as his wife?”

Her eyes suddenly flamed with shame.  She drooped them before his gaze and seemed to try to assent, but her head was drooped too low to bow.  She lifted miserable pleading looks to his face twice, but could not stand the clear rebuke of his gaze.  It was like the whiteness of the reproach of God, and her little sinful soul could not bear it.  She lifted a handkerchief and uttered something like a sob.  It was as one might think would be the sound of a lost soul looking back at what might have been.

“What the devil have you got to say about it?  Who the devil are you, anyway?” roared the man from the doorway.

The elevator-boy and clerk were all agog.  The latter had come out of his pen and was standing behind the boy, on tiptoe, where they could get a good view of the scene.  The room was tense with stillness.

Aquilar’s voice was not one to pass unnoticed when he spoke in anger, but Courtland did not even lift an eyelid toward him.

Perhaps Aquilar’s words had given Gila courage, for she suddenly lifted her eyes to Courtland’s face again, a flash of vengeance in them: 

“I suppose you are going to tell Lew all about it?” she flung out, bitterly.  “I suppose you will make up a great story to go and tell Lew.  But you don’t suppose he will believe you against me, do you?”

Her eyes were flashing fire now.  Her old imperious manner was upon her.  She had driven him from her once!  She would defeat him again!

He watched her without a change of countenance.  “No, I shall not tell him,” he said, quietly; “but you will!”

“I?” Gila turned a glance of contemptuous amusement upon him.  “Some chance!  And I warn you that if you attempt to tattle anything about it I will turn, the tables against you in a way you little suspect.”