unlighted house and hesitated in the vicinity of her door?
"John!"
The formlessness of her cry unveiled her fear.
The knob moved. Inch by inch the door opened, and, inch by inch, as if impelled by a perfectly controlled impulse from the door widening on the intruder, she retreated until the wall held her.
"Freddy!" she gasped.
He stepped in and closed the door. It could scarcely have been apparent to her all at once how much he had been drinking, for, although his face was flushed, the event justified that, and he had evidently forced on himself for the moment a supreme control. Yet her relief was short-lived. To be sure she could leave the wall and advance to meet him, yet, as if the room possessed a phonographic quality, it was still loud with her husband's anxiety and her own contemptuous promises.
"What are you doing here? How did you get in? Go before— This is out of the question."
His hand left the knob.
"It's all right, Bella. Needn't be afraid. Randall's out of the way. He won't bother us to-night."
"Then you know about Mrs. Hanson?" she asked.
He nodded sagely.
"I know a lot."
"You can't stay here," she said. "Go."
He stretched out his hands.
"Then you shall come with me. That's the
