“Hell, no!” he exclaimed warmly, as instantly pausing when she wheeled swiftly about and faced him firmly.  “No, it is not all.  Of course, I had a special purpose in sending for you.  Yet I cannot help feeling a natural curiosity.  Tell me, what are you doing here?”

“That is quite easily seen; I am endeavoring to earn a living.”

“A nice, quiet, respectable sort of a place you have chosen, certainly.  It is about the last spot I should ever have expected to discover you in, knowing as I do your former puritanical morals.  Your tastes must have greatly changed under the spur,” and he laughed lightly, in mockery.

Miss Norvell’s lips curled in unconcealed contempt, her eyes darkening with indignation.

“My present associations were not entered into from choice but from necessity.  With you, I understand, it is deliberate choice.”

The man stood undecided, fingering the edge of the curtain, vaguely realizing that he was merely injuring his own cause by continuing to anger her, yet far too deeply hit to remain entirely silent.

“You seem inclined to strike out as hard as ever,” he retorted, yet in tones of manifest regret.  “But just now there is not the slightest occasion for any bitterness.  I am perfectly prepared to do the square thing, and if we can only pull together pleasantly for a little while, it will prove far better for both of us.”

“In plainer words, you chance just now to have some special use for me?”

“Well, I hope you will look at the situation from my viewpoint.  But the actual truth is, that when I first came up here to-night, I had not the faintest suspicion that it was you I was seeking.”

“No?” doubtfully.

“That is an actual fact, Lizzie.  I did n’t suppose you were within a thousand miles of this place,” and Farnham quietly settled himself again in his chair.  “I came up here merely intending to get a glimpse of an actress named Beth Norvell.  I was never more thoroughly surprised in my life than when you first came out on the stage.  For a moment it knocked me silly.  Say, you’re an artist all right, my girl.  That was a great stunt.  Why, those boys down below hardly breathed until you disappeared.  You ought to get a chance in Chicago; you ’d be wearing diamonds.  Damned if I was n’t honestly proud of you myself.”

The girl caught her breath sharply, her hand pressed tightly against her side.

“What—­what was it you desired of Beth Norvell?” she questioned.

Farnham’s white teeth gleamed in a sudden smile of appreciation.

“Hope you are not becoming jealous,” he said insinuatingly.  “Positively no occasion, I assure you, for it was not to make love to the girl, I wanted to see her.  Lord, no!  This was purely a business deal.  The truth is, I chanced to hear she had a lover already, and he was the fellow I was really after.”

“A lover?” she stepped toward him, her eyes blazing, her cheeks aflame.  “I?  How dare you?  What can you mean by so false an insinuation?”