“Is this a bargain?” she cried scathingly.  “Are you offering to buy my friendship?  I know you, Fifi Desternay!  You are—­a snake in the grass!”

Fifi clenched her little fists, drew her lips between her teeth, and fairly hissed, “Serpent, yourself!  Murderess!  I know all —­and I shall tell all!  You’ll regret the day you scorned the friendship—­the help of Fifi Desternay!”

“I don’t want your help, at the price of friendship with you!  I know you for what you are!  My husband told me—­others have told me!  I did go to your house for the sake of winning money—­yes, and I am ashamed of it!  And I am ready to face any accusation, brave any suspicion, rather than be shielded from it, or helped out of it by you!”

“Fine words! but they mean nothing!  You know you’re justly accused!  You know you’re rightly suspected!  But you are clever —­you also know that no jury, in this enlightened age, will ever convict a woman!  Especially a beautiful woman!  You know you are safe from even the lightest sentence—­and that though you are guilty—­yes, guilty of the murder of your husband, you will get off scot free, because”—­Fifi paused to give her last shot telling effect—­“because your counsel, Alvord Hendricks, is in love with you!  He will manage it, and what he can’t accomplish, Mason Elliott can!  With those two influential men, both in love with you, you can’t be convicted—­and probably you won’t even be arrested!”

“Go!” said Eunice, and she folded her arms as she gazed at her angry antagonist.  “Go!  I scorn to refute or even answer your words.”

“Because they’re true!  Because there is no answer!” Fifi fairly screamed.  “You think you’re a power!  Because you’re tall and statuesque and stunning!  You know if those men can’t keep you out of the court-room at least you are safe in the hands of any judge or jury, because they are men!  You know if you smile at them—­pathetically—­if you cast those wonderful eyes of yours at them, they’ll grovel at your feet!  I know you, Eunice Embury!  You’re banking on your femininity to save you from your just fate.”

“You judge me by yourself, Fifi.  You are a power among men, most women are, but I do not bank on that—­”

“Not alone!  You bank on the fact that either Hendricks or Elliott would go through hell for you, and count it an easy journey.  You rest easy in the knowledge that those two men can do just about anything they set their minds to—­”

“Will you go?”

“Yes, I will go.  And when Mr. Shane comes to see me again, I will tell him the truth—­all the truth about the’ Hamlet’ play —­and—­it will be enough!”

“Tell him!” Eunice’s eyes blazed now.  “Tell him the truth—­and add to it whatever lies your clever brain can invent!  Do your worst Fifi Desternay; I am not afraid of you!”

“I am going, Eunice.”  Fifi moved slowly toward the door.  “I shall tell the truth, but I shall add no lies—­that will not be necessary!”