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 very effective. She did not want to be helped by Hoberg.

Partly in an instinct of self-preservation, she shrank from the idea. Hoberg would not be effective for any final good for herself, and not for any good at all for Ket. So far from helping him, Hoberg undoubtedly would prefer him out of the way. Surely Mr. Hoberg would try to separate her from Ket, and she did not want to be removed further from him; she did not want to be out and free at any cost whatever to Ket.

The phone transmitted instruction for Mrs. Hoswick to escort her charge downstairs; and, in accordance with her own request, Joan Daisy was brought to the room where Ket was held.

She was aware that her visit was permitted for no advantage to Ket or to herself, but because Mr. Clarke had decided that the time was ripe to confront Ket with her again. She almost turned at the door; but she wanted to see Ket! How she wanted to see him!

He was seated, dressed in brown and with a cloud of cigarette smoke hiding his face from her eager, first glance. On both sides of him, plain-clothes policemen were sitting. The smoke blew away, and she saw Ket, red-eyed and with his lips drooping, haggard.

"By God!" he cast at her bitterly.

He took her aback; then she stepped closer, while he stared up at her and did not arise. "By God," he flung once more his awful reproach of her.

She went white, but held up her head and faced him. "Ket, I told him the truth," she said, speaking of Mr. Clarke, who was standing to the right of the seated men, but she never glanced at him. "I had to, Ket. You tell the truth—just as it was, nothing else. Then when they take us apart, they'll see that everything tabs. They