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 "Do it and die!"

"I am no coward; I am not afraid of your threats," he returned coldly.

"But it is madness!" the other roared, "I am surrounded by friends; you have none here."

"By heavens he has!" said a voice behind them.

"Marrion Latham!" came from every tongue.

"Yes, and the most unwelcome guest you ever entertained. This is all a base, cowardly lie, and I came to tell you," he hissed to the others, as he caught Robert by the hand.

"My friend," cried Robert, "forgive me the injustice I have done you; I could kneel and beg it of you."

"I am not warrior, priest or king—only brother," he said earnestly.

"You contemptible cur; dare you say Cherokee Milburn was not my model and my—"

"Yes, I do dare; even the first thing you ever led her into was a deception, and the baby face that swings above you there on the wall is the same face you hid away when misfortune overtook her—to die in the slums—and that one was your own child."

"But I say, emphatically, that this is a picture of Mrs. Milburn—the other has nothing to do with this," cried the enraged artist.

"And I say, with the same emphasis, it is a