Whatever position she had once thought to hold through him, was now jeopardized.

Whatever joy or glory she had had in being Mrs.Frank Algernon Cowperwood, it was now tarnished.

She sat in her room, this same day after the detectives had given their report, a tired look in her eyes, the first set lines her pretty mouth had ever known showing about it, her past and her future whirling painfully and nebulously in her brain.

Suddenly she got up, and, seeing Cowperwood's picture on her dresser, his still impressive eyes contemplating her, she seized it and threw it on the floor, stamping on his handsome face with her pretty foot, and raging at him in her heart.

The dog! The brute! Her brain was full of the thought of Rita's white arms about him, of his lips to hers.