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 tive," repeated Oliver with a satisfaction which further shook Calvin's unsettled certainties.

Calvin looked at the Royle girl, and his stubborn confidence in his own opinion collapsed. He saw her seated, waiting for him to come to her, quivering in her sureness of proof of her truth. She stood up, when he did not approach, and joined Oliver. "I saw him," she said quietly and distinctly to Calvin. "He's the man I saw with Adele."

"You're taking him to-night, sir?" asked Oliver, believing Mr. Clarke had come with a squad.

"Take her home," said Calvin.

"You don't want her here?" asked Oliver.

"Take her home," Calvin repeated, his mind suddenly of no service to him as he gazed at her eyes.

"I'll take her outside," agreed Oliver, "and I'll come back."

"Don't come back," commanded Calvin. "I tell you, take her home."

He felt himself become hotly excited, though he controlled his appearance; he wanted to push the reporter to the door, and he wanted to seize the Royle girl's wrist—her white, slender wrist and hand—and lead her out under his own protection.

"We'll go outside," said Oliver to her; and they added themselves to the throng at the doors.

Every one who was in control of his faculties was leaving the dance-room; except for a few patrons, sunk in sleep upon their chairs, every table was deserted; a half dozen waiters nervously strolled about, but the rest had disappeared; every one was bent on personal escape as silently and inconspicuously as possible; but, in spite of this, they squabbled at the doors.

Calvin went to a telephone booth, conveniently placed for the use of guests. His coin in the box brought no