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 *denly he stiffened at the sound of a laugh heard through the open window. His teeth clicked, his hands clenched, and every nerve in his body seemed to jerk taut as a bowstring. King was there—laughing!

He had turned to face the window, and for a few seconds he stood perfectly rigid and motionless. He struck no pose, made no gesture; but he, too, laughed, silently.

"Last time we met," he breathed at length, "you called me a liar, Benton King, and I held myself. If you were to repeat that word to me to-night, I'd knock you down in your tracks."

His step was steady enough now as he walked away. For a moment he thought of returning to the hotel and writing her a letter, stating the truth briefly; but he dismissed the idea almost immediately.

"She'll find out in time," he said; "for the whole of Kingsbridge will know after the meeting Thursday night. When she does find out, perhaps she'll be sorry for her mistake, but it will be too late."