The Hunted Woman

t was not the usual giggling, the usual exchange of badinage and coarse jest beyond the closed curtains. Quade did not come out rubbing his huge hands, his face crinkling with a sort of exultant satisfaction. The girl preceded him. She flung the curtains aside and stood there for a moment, her face flaming like fire, her blue eyes filled with the flash of lightning. She came down the single step. Quade followed her. He put out a hand.

"Don't take offence, girly," he expostulated. "Look here--ain't it reasonable to s'pose----"

He got no farther. The man in the door had advanced, placing himself at the girl's side. His voice was low and unexcited.

"You have made a mistake?" he said.

She took him in at a glance--his clean-cut, strangely attractive face, his slim build, the clear and steady gray of his eyes.

"Yes, I have made a mistake--a terrible mistake!"

"I tell you it ain't fair to take offence," Quade went on. "Now, look here----"

In his hand was a roll of bil