There is one cold-blooded, grasping woman for you.

Money! She thinks of nothing but money.

And flattery! Ah, how she thrives on flattery.

That woman, my friend, beautiful as she is, has no more heart than a--" "Excuse me, please," broke in his listener, in English.

"I've got to beat it." He had caught sight of a slim young figure at the head of the stairs,--a girl in a rumpled blue serge tailor-suit and a tan-coloured sport hat pulled well down over her dark hair.