days　before；　against　thinking　about　it；　but　premonition　had　crept
  upon　her　stronger　and　stronger；　until　to…night；　now；　it　seemed　as
  though　her　mind　could　dwell　on　nothing　else。
  On　the　landing；　she　paused　suddenly　and　listened。　　The　street　door
  had　opened　and　closed；　and　now　a　footstep　sounded　on　the　stairs
  behind　her。　　She　went　on　again　along　the　hall；　feeling　her　way；　and
  reaching　the　short；　ladder…like　steps　to　the　garret；　she　began　to
  mount　them。　　Who　was　it　there　behind　her？　　One　of　the　unknown
  lodgers　on　the　lower　floor；　or　…？　　She　could　not　see；　of　course。
  It　was　pitch　black。　　But　she　could　hear。　　And　as　she　knelt　now　on
  the　narrow　landing；　and　felt　with　her　fingers　along　the　floor　for
  the　aperture；　where；　imitating　the　custom　of　Gypsy　Nan；　she　had　left
  her　key　when　she　went　out；　she　heard　the　footsteps　coming　steadily
  on；　passing　the　doors　below　her；　and　making　toward　the　garret　ladder。
  And　then；　stifling　a　startled　little　cry；　her　hand　closed　on　the　key；
  and　closed；　as　it　had　closed　on　that　first　night　when　she　had
  returned　here　in　the　role　of　Gypsy　Nan；　on　a　piece　of　paper　wrapped
  around　the　key。　　The　days　of　isolation　were　ended　with　climacteric
  effect；　the　pendulum　had　swung　full　the　other　way　…　to…night　there
  was　both　a　visitor　and　a　message！
  The　paper　detached　from　the　key　and　thrust　into　her　bodice；　she
  stood　up　quickly。　　A　form；　looming　up　even　in　the　darkness；　showed
  on　the　garret　stairs。　　〃Who's　dere？〃　she　croaked。
  〃It's　all　right；〃　a　voice　answered　in　low　tones。　　〃You　were　just
  ahead　of　me　on　the　street。　　I　saw　you　come　in。　　It's　Pierre。〃
  Pierre！　　So　that　was　his　name！　　It　was　only　the　voice　she　recognized。
  Pierre　…　Danglar！　　She　fumbled　for　the　keyhole；　found　it；　and
  inserted　the　key。　　〃Well；　how's　Bertha　to…night？〃
  There　seemed　to　be　a　strange　exhilaration　in　the　man's　voice。　　He
  was　standing　beside　her　now；　close　beside　her；　and　now　his　hand
  played　with　a　curiously　caressing　motion　on　her　shoulder。　　The　touch
  seemed　to　scorch　and　burn　her。　　Who　was　this　Danglar；　who　was　Pierre
  to　her；　and　to　whom　she　was　Bertha？　　Her　breath　came　quickly　in
  spite　of　herself；　there　came；　too；　a　frenzy　of　aversion；　and
  impulsively　she　flung　his　hand　away；　and　with　the　door　unlocked　now；
  stepped　from　him　into　the　garret。
  〃Feeling　a　bit　off　color；　eh？〃　he　said　with　a　short　laugh；　as　he
  followed　her；　and　shut　the　door　behind　him。　　〃Well；　I　don't　know
  as　I　blame　you。　　But；　look　here；　old　girl；　have　a　heart！　　It's　not
  my　fault。　　I　know　what　you're　grouching　about　…　it's　because　I
  haven't　been　around　much　lately。　　But　you　ought　to　know　well　enough
  that　I　couldn't　help　it。　　Our　game　has　been　crimped　lately　at　every
  turn　by　that　she…devil；　the　White　Moll；　and　that　dude　pal　of　hers。〃
  He　laughed　out　again　…　in　savage　menace　now。　　〃I've　been　busy。
  Understand；　Bertha？　　　It　was　either　ourselves；　or　them。　　We've　got
  to　go　under　…　or　they　have。　　And　we　won't！　　I　promise　you　that！
  Things'll　break　a　little　better　before　long；　and　I'll　make　it　up　to
  you。〃
  She　could　not　see　him　in　the　blackness　of　the　garret。　　She　breathed
  a　prayer　of　gratitude　that　he　could　not　see　her。　　Her　face；　in　spite
  of　Gipsy　Nan's　disguising　grime；　must　be　white；　white　as　death
  itself。　　It　seemed　to　plumb　some　infamous　depth　from　which　her　soul
  recoiled；　this　apology　of　his　for　his　neglect　of　her。　　And　then　her
  hands　at　her　sides　curled　into　tight…clenched　little　fists　as　she
  strove　to　control　herself。　　His　words；　at　least；　supplied　her　with
  her　cue。
  〃Of　course！〃　she　said　tartly；　but　in　perfect　English　…　the　vernacular
  of　Gypsy　Nan　was　not　for　Danglar；　for　she　remembered　only　too　well
  how　once　before　it　had　nearly　tripped　her　up。　　〃But　you　didn't　come
  here　to　apologize！　　What　is　it　you　want？〃
  〃Ah；　I　say；　Bertha！〃　he　said　appeasingly。　　〃Cut　that　out！　　I　couldn't
  help　being　away；　I　tell　you。　　Of　course；　I　didn't　come　here　to
  apologize　…　I　thought　you'd　understand　well　enough　without　that。
  The　gang's　out　of　cash；　and　I　came　to　tap　the　reserves。　　Let　me　have
  a　package　of　the　long　green；　Bertha。〃
  It　was　a　moment　before　she　spoke。　　Her　woman's　instinct　prompted
  her　to　let　down　the　bars　between　them　in　no　single　degree；　that　her
  protection　lay　in　playing　up　to　the　full　what　Danglar；　jumping　at
  conclusions；　had　assumed　was　a　grouch　at　his　neglect。　　Also；　her
  mind　worked　quickly。　　Her　own　clothes　were　no　longer　in　the　secret
  hiding　place　here　in　the　garret；　they　were　out　there　in　that　old
  shed　in　the　lane。　　It　was　perfectly　safe；　then；　to　let　Danglar　go
  to　the　hiding　place　himself；　assuming　that　he　knew　where　it　was
  …　which；　almost　of　necessity；　he　must。
  〃Oh！〃　she　said　ungraciously。　　〃Well；　you　know　where　it　is；　don't
  you？　　Suppose　you　go　and　get　it　yourself！〃
  〃All　right！〃　returned　Danglar；　a　sullenness　creeping　into　his　voice。
  〃Have　it　your　own　way；　Bertha！　　I　haven't　got　time　to…night　to　coax
  you　out　of　your　tantrums。　　That's　what　you　want；　but　I　haven't　got
  time　…　to…night。〃
  She　did　not　answer。
  A　match　crackled　in　Danglar's　hand；　the　flames　spurted　up　through
  the　darkness。　　Danglar　made　his　way　over　to　the　rickety　washstand；
  found　the　candle　that　was　stuck　in　the　neck　of　the　gin　bottle；
  lighted　it；　held　the　candle　above　his　head；　and　stared　around
  the　garret。
  〃Why　the　devil　don't　you　get　another　lamp？〃　he　grumbled　…　and
  started　toward　the　rear　of　the　garret。
  Rhoda　Gray　watched　him　silently。　　She　did　not　care　to　explain　that
  she　had　not　replaced　the　lamp　for　the　very　simple　reason　that　it
  gave　far　too　much　light　here　in　the　garret　to　be　safe　…　for　her！
  She　watched　him；　with　her　hand　in　the　pocket　of　her　greasy　skirt
  clutched　around　another　legacy　of　Gypsy　Nan　…　her　revolver。　　And
  now　she　became　conscious　that　from　the　moment　she　had　entered　the
  garret；　her　fingers；　hidden　in　that　pocket；　had　sought　and　clung
  to　the　weapon。　　The　man　filled　her　with　detestation　and　fear；　and
  somehow　she　feared　him　more　now　in　what　he　was　trying　to　make　an
  ingratiating　mood；　than　she　had　feared　him　in　the　full　flood　of
  his　rage　and　anger　that　other　night　at　Shluker's　place。
  She　drew　back　a　little　toward　the　cot　bed　against　the　wall；　drew
  back　to　give　him　free　passage　to　the　door　when　he　should　return
  again；　her　eyes　still　holding　on　the　far　end　of　the　garret；　where；
  with　the　slope　of　the　roof；　the　ceiling　was　no　more　than　shoulder
  high。　　There　seemed　something　horribly　weird　and　grotesque　in　the
  scene　before　her。　　He　had　pushed　the　narrow　trap…door　in　the　ceiling
  upward；　and　had　thrust　candle　and　head　through　the　opening；　and　the
  faint　yellow　light；　seeping　back　and　downward　in　flickering；
  uncertain　rays；　suggested　the　impression　of　a　gruesome；　headless
  figure　standing　there　hazily　outlined　in　the　surrounding　murk。　　It
  chilled　her；　she　clutched　at　her　shawl；　drew　it　more　closely　about
  her；　and　edged　still　nearer　to　the　wall。
  And　then　Danglar　closed　the　trap…door　again；　and　came　back　with　the
  candle　in　one　hand；　and　one　of　the　bulky　packages　of　banknotes　from
  the　hiding　place　in　the　other。　　He　set　the　candle　down　on　the
  washstand；　and　began　to　distribute　the　money　through　his　various
  pockets。
  He　was　smiling　with　curious　complacency。
  〃It　was　your　job　to　play　the　spider　to　the　White　Moll　if　she　ever
  showed　up　again　here　in　your　parlor；〃　he　said。　　〃Maybe　somebody
  tipped　her　off　to　keep　away；　maybe　she　was　too　wily；　but；　anyway；
  since　you　have　not　sent　out　any　word；　it　is　evident　that　our　little
  plans　along　that　line　didn't　work；　since　she　has　failed　to　come　back
  to　pay　a　call　of　gratitude　to　you。　　I　don't　suppose　there's　anything
  to　add　to　that；　eh；　Bertha？　　No　report　to　make？〃
  〃No；〃　said　Rhoda　Gray　shortly。　　〃I　haven't　any　report　to　make。〃
  〃Well；　no　matter！〃　said　Danglar。　　He　laughed　out　shortly。　　〃There
  are　other　ways！　　She's　had　her　fling　at　our　expense；　it's　her　turn
  to　pay　now。〃　　He　laughed　again　…　and　in　the　laugh　now　there　was
  something　both　brutal　in　its　menace；　and　sinister　in　its　suggestion
  of　gloating　triumph。
  〃What　do　you　mean？〃　demanded　Rhoda　Gray　quickly。　　〃What　are　you
  going　to　do？〃
  〃Get　her！〃　said　Danglar。　　The　man's　passion　flamed　up　suddenly；　he
  spoke　through　his　closed　teeth。　　〃Get　her！　　I　made　her　a　little
  promise。　　I'm　going　to　keep　it！　　Understand？〃
  〃You've　been　saying　that　for　quite　a　long　time；〃　retorted　Rhoda
  Gray　coolly。　　〃But　the　'getting'　has　been　all　the　other　way　so　far。
  How　are　you　going　to　get　her？〃
  Danglar's　little　black　eyes　narrowed；　and　he　thrust　his　head　forward
  and　out　from　his　shoulders　savagely。　　In　the　flickering　candle
  light；　with　contorted　face　and　snarling　lips；　he　looked　again　the
  beast　to　which　she　had　once　likened　him。
  〃Never　mind　how　I'm　going　to　get　her！〃　he　flung　out；　with　an　oath。
  〃I　told　you　I'd　been　busy。　　That's　enough！　　You'll　see
  Rhoda　Gray；　in　the　semi…darkness；　shrugged　her　shoulders。　　Was　the
  man；　prompted　by　rage　and　fury；　simply　making　wild　threats；　or　had
  he　at　last　some　definite　and　perhaps　infallible　plan　that　he
  purposed　putting　into　operation？　　She　did　not　know；　and；　much　as　it
  meant　to　her；　she　did　not　dare　take　the　risk　of　arousing　suspicion
  by　pressing　the　question。　　Failing；　then；　to　obtain　any　intimation
  of　what　he　meant　to　do；　the　next　thi