“Now what?” Mrs. Berry demanded, stopping in the doorway.
Lila answered:
“I am going to work.”
“You are, eh?” Mrs. Berry snorted. “Not if I know it! You take off that hat and set right down in that chair — or, better still, go to bed.”
“But I must,” protested Lila. “I’m all right now, Mrs. Berry; really I am.”
“All right, then you’re all right. I don’t say you ain’t. But you ain’t goin’ to work.”
This was said in a tone which had been only too well known by the late Mr. Berry. He had never been able to resist it, nor was Lila. It forbore all opposition; and without knowing exactly how or why, some minutes later she found herself in the chair by the window eating an excellent breakfast brought up on a tray by Mrs. Berry.
During the morning Lila received several visits from the good woman. She came to remove the tray, she came to fetch the morning papers, and she came to “tidy up the room.” On her sixth visit she entered somewhat precipitately and announced that there was a gentleman below to see Lila.
“Who is it?” asked Lila, turning quickly.
“He didn’t give his name,” said Mrs. Berry. “He’s a tall, sporty-lookin’, mean-lookin’ man.”
Lila reflected a moment, then asked Mrs. Berry to show him up. She grunted, and departed.
A minute later Billy Sherman entered the room.
Lila sprang to her feet with an involuntary exclamation of surprise and dismay.
“You!” she breathed.
Sherman nodded, laid his hat and gloves on a table near the door, and crossed the room to her side.
“Yes,” he said calmly, “I. Aren’t you glad to see me?”
Then, as Lila, unable to speak, pointed to the door with a shaking finger, he continued:
“Well, I’m glad to see you. No, I won’t go. And when you hear what I have to tell you, you won’t want me to go. I’ve played with you long enough, and it’s about time for us to understand each other. Sit down.”
Lila was trembling with indignation and fear. She remembered Knowlton’s story: this was the man who had caused all her suffering and Knowlton’s misfortune. Sherman’s person had always impressed her disagreeably; she now shrank from him as from a snake.
She forced herself to look at him.
“Mr. Sherman, if I had known it was you asking for me I would not have seen you. Go — at once — or I’ll call Mrs. Berry.”
“So you wouldn’t have seen me?” Sherman sneered. “Well, you’d have been sorry for it. If it wasn’t for me, do you know where you’d be now? You’d be in the Tombs. That trip of yours across the Hudson last night was a little indiscreet.”
He smiled grimly at her gasp of surprise and horror as he went on:
“You wouldn’t believe I was your friend, but maybe you will now. Couldn’t I have turned you over to the detectives last night? Remember, all I have to do is walk to a telephone — it’s not too late.”
Lila could only repeat:
“Go... go!”
“But that’s not what I want,” he continued, ignoring her cry. “I’m fool enough to want to protect you. I love you. For months you’ve laughed at me; now it’s my turn. You can’t look at me any more with your darned pious air of superiority. A girl that goes to visit a man in his rooms at night had better take what she can get. Wait! Wait till I finish!”
Lila, her eyes ablaze, had sprung to the door and begun to open it. But at the tone of Sherman’s last words, menacing and significant, she halted.
“I thought so,” said Sherman meaningly. “You’re not the one to break your own neck. Now do as I tell you, and you can save both Knowlton and yourself.”
Lila stared at him in surprise, incredulous.
“Oh, not for you,” he continued, reading her thought. “I’m not that kind of a fool. I put it to you straight: do you want to save Knowlton?”
“What — what has that to do with you?” stammered Lila, removing her hand from the door and turning to face him.
“Just this: I can save him, and I will — on one condition.”
“And the — one condition?”
“That you marry me.”
“I... marry... you!” The words choked her.
“Yes. The day that you become my wife John Knowlton is a free man. Otherwise — you know the alternative. And, my dear, you could make a worse bargain. As I said, you are not in a position to choose. And I love you; I will try to make you happy—”
“You — make me happy!”
The stinging scorn of the tone was indescribable. Sherman winced, and was moved to a sudden fury:
“Well, and if I don’t? I’ll have you! At last! And be careful — I may decide not to marry you. After all, why should I marry you? Knowlton didn’t. That touches you, does it? And what do you think of your lover now? Why don’t you go down to the Tombs and tell him — tell him—”
He sputtered and paused, overcome with jealous rage. Then, recovering himself with difficulty, he said calmly:
“And now I want your answer. You’re at the end of your rope, and you may as well talk sense. None of your high-flown, touch-me-if-you-dare stuff will go now — you’re up against a stiff proposition and you’ve got to make good.
“I’ve got you. Do you understand that? I’ve got you. You’d do anything for this Knowlton, would you? All right. When will you marry me?”
Lila wanted to cry out, to run from the room, to close her ears and eyes against his insults and his leering face. But she stood glued to the spot, unable either to speak or move.
The man, advancing a threatening step, repeated his question:
“When will you marry me?”
Her lips moved, but there was no sound.
“By Heaven, you will answer me!” said Sherman through clenched teeth. He reached her side in two long strides and grasped her arm fiercely. “Speak!” he hissed. “You little black-eyed devil — speak — tell me—”
At that moment there came three sharp knocks on the door — barely in time.
Sherman, muttering an oath, released Lila’s arm and turned quickly about. Lila placed her hand on the back of a chair for support, and, between quick, short, breaths, managed to murmur:
“Come in.”
The door opened. Mrs. Berry entered.
“More visitors,” she announced shortly, from the doorway. She seemed not to notice Lila’s agitation, and Sherman’s back was turned. “Mr. Dumain and Mr. Dougherty is down below and asks to see you.”
Then she ran over to Lila, and, placing her mouth close to her ear, whispered:
“I don’t know what this is all about, dearie, but if I can help you—”
Lila threw her arms around the good woman’s neck and kissed her.
“You can help me,” she murmured. “Send them up — Mr. Dumain and Mr. Dougherty — send them up at once! Dear Mrs. Berry, hurry!”
Whereupon Mrs. Berry sped from the room and down the stairs with flying skirts.
Lila stood by the open door. Sherman turned, his face livid with rage — or was it fear? His lips moved, but no words came from them. He stared straight at the door, as though stunned by surprise at the sudden check to his plans, and remained so as Lila advanced eagerly to meet the two men who came puffing up the stairs.
“I am glad to see you,” she declared, taking a hand of each.
Dumain bowed grandly, in silence. Dougherty gripped her hand with awkward roughness and stammered an unintelligible “Good morning!”
But he soon found his tongue. Lila moved aside, and at the same instant the newcomers caught sight of Sherman.
Dougherty’s eyes were filled with surprise for a moment, then they became alight with an unholy joy. He had spent half the night regretting what he considered the leniency of his treatment of Sherman, and here he was delivered unto his hand!