"Why--why--I'm through with you! That's final! And I don't dare stay here another minute! Good-bye." "Wait, Clara." He caught her hand as she turned to go, and spoke rapidly.

"I don't think I'm so bad as you think I am--honest.

You may change your mind; I hope you do, dear; and if you do, write me, 'phone me, telegraph me, cable me, wireless me.

But, of course, not to me direct; the police, you know.

Address me in care of the Reverend Mr.Pyecroft." Tense though the moment was to him, the young man could not restrain his odd whimsical smile.