“Where’s Mary?” he demanded, and Hamilton wheeled on him with eyes that were scarcely sane.

“Gone!” he barked out.  “Gone with that rat, Edwardes.  That’s one of the things your whim has cost so far—­your baby-doll—­your toy-woman!”

With a sudden cry that came from his heart, Paul dropped into a chair and covered his face with his hands.  His shoulders shook to his convulsive sobbing, and after a moment Hamilton went over and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Forgive me, little brother,” he said softly.  “After all, Edwardes was the real reason.  Edwardes with his damned self-righteousness!  Mary flew virtuously to his standards.  She is no longer my sister, Paul.”

But Paul rose with his face full of pleading.  He talked rapidly, excitedly, like a frightened child.

“Hamilton, she is our sister.  She loves him....  You promised her happiness years ago....  You can’t let her go like this.  It will kill us all.”

His elder brother thrust him back at arm’s length and gazed into his grief-stricken face.  “It’s not a question of letting her go.  She went in spite of me.  She went to the enemy.”  The words came very bitterly and for the first time in his life Paul saw tears in Hamilton’s eyes.

The musician rose and passed an unsteady hand over his brow.  “I’m thinking about mother,” he said brokenly.  “I must go up and be with her when she learns.”

Hamilton wheeled, speaking quickly.  “Yes, do.  I shall follow you shortly.  Tell mother that I withheld my approval to this marriage, and they took the bit in their teeth.”

Within the half-hour Carl Bristoll, Ruferton and Tarring were with their chief and between them lay sheafs of memoranda and financial data, which littered the table.

“I want to know in exact detail,” Hamilton Burton told them as his glance burned into their faces, “everything that it is possible to learn concerning the firm of Edwardes and Edwardes.  Most particularly I want to learn their points of greatest vulnerability.  I must have lists of those securities in which, directly or indirectly, they are most vitally interested and the exact nature and extent of all their liabilities.”

* * * * *

Outside, Jefferson Edwardes found his car waiting, and the realization came ironically to his mind that it was precisely the hour he had expected to leave Hamilton Burton’s house—­though his intention had been to leave only long enough to change into evening-clothes and return for dinner.  To his chauffeur he said in a low voice, “Drive in the park until I tell you to stop.”  Then as he took his seat beside the girl he turned upon her very serious eyes and said resolutely, “I couldn’t debate it with you in his presence, Mary, but I can’t marry you tonight.”

She turned her face to him and the color left her cheeks.

“Not marry me?” she questioned in a dazed voice.