THE 
 
 SALAMANDER 
 
 OWEN JOHNSON
 
 THE SALAMANDER
 
 Do re
 
 THE 
 SALAMANDER 
 
 By 
 
 OWEN JOHNSON 
 
 Author of 
 
 THE VARMINT, STOVER AT YAI.B 
 THE SIXTY-FIRST SECOND, ETC. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 EVERETT SHINN 
 
 INDIANAPOLIS 
 
 THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 COPYRIGHT 1914 
 THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 
 
 PRESS OF 
 BRAUNWORTH & CO. 
 
 BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS 
 BROOKLYN, N. Y.
 
 TO MY WIFE
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 Precarious the lot of the author who elects to show 
 his public what it does not know, but doubly exposed he 
 who in the indiscreet exploration of customs and man- 
 ners publishes what the public knows but is unwilling to 
 confess ! In the first place incredulity tempers censure, 
 in the second resentment is fanned by the necessity of 
 self -recognition. For the public is like the defendant in 
 matrimony, amused and tolerant when unconvinced of 
 the justice of a complaint, but fiercely aroused when de- 
 fending its errors. 
 
 In the present novel I am quite aware that where criti- 
 cism is most risked is at the hands of those entrenched 
 moralists who, while admitting certain truths as fit sub- 
 jects for conversation, aggressively resent the same when 
 such truths are published. Many such will believe that 
 in the following depiction of a curious and new type of 
 modern young women, product of changing social forces, 
 profoundly significant of present unrest and prophetic of 
 stranger developments to come, the author, in depicting 
 simply what does exist, is holding a brief for what should 
 exist. 
 
 If the type of young girls here described were an 
 ephemeral manifestation or even a detached fragment of 
 our society, there might be a theoretical justification for 
 this policy of censure by silence. But the Salamanders 
 are neither irrelevant nor the product of unrelated 
 forces. The rebellious ideas that sway, them are the 
 same ideas that are profoundly at work in the new gen-
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 eration of women, and while for this present work I have 
 limited my field, be sure that the young girl of to-day, 
 from the age of eighteen to twenty-five, whether facing 
 the world alone or peering out at it from the safety of 
 the family, whether in the palaces of New York, the 
 homesteads of New England, the manors of the South 
 or the throbbing cities and villages of the West, whatever 
 her station or her opportunity, has in her undisciplined 
 and roving imagination a little touch of the Salamander. 
 
 That there exists a type of young girl that heedlessly 
 will affront every appearance of evil and can yet remain 
 innocent ; that this innocence, never relinquished, can yet 
 be tumultuously curious and determined on the explora- 
 tion of the hitherto forbidden sides of life, especially 
 when such reconnoitering is rendered enticing by the 
 presence of danger here are two apparent contradic- 
 tions difficult of belief. Yet in the case of the Salaman- 
 der's brother, society finds no such difficulty it terms 
 that masculine process, "seeing the world," a study rather 
 to be recommended for the sake of satisfied future tran- 
 quillity. 
 
 That the same can be true of the opposite sex, that a 
 young girl without physical temptation may be urged by 
 a mental curiosity to see life through whatever windows, 
 that she may feel the same impetuous frenzy of youth as 
 her brother, the same impulse to sample each new excite- 
 ment, and that in this curiosity may be included the safe 
 and the dangerous, the obvious and the complex, the 
 casual and the strange, that she may arrogate to herself 
 the right to examine everything, question everything, 
 peep into everything tentatively to project herself into 
 every possibility and after a few years of this frenzy of 
 excited curiosity can suddenly be translated into a formal
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 and discreet mode of life here is an exposition which 
 may well appear incredible on the printed page. I say on 
 the printed page because few men are there who will not 
 recognize the justice of the type of Salamander here por- 
 trayed. Only as their experience has been necessarily 
 individual they do not proceed to the recognition of a 
 general type. They know them well as accidents in the 
 phantasmagoria of New York but they do not compre- 
 hend them in the least. 
 
 The Salamander in the last analysis is a little atom pos- 
 sessed of a brain, thrown against the great tragic luxury 
 of New York, which has impelled her to it as the flame 
 the moth. 
 
 She comes roving from somewhere out of the im- 
 mense reaches of the nation, revolting against the com- 
 monplace of an inherited narrowness, passionately adven- 
 turous, eager and unafraid, neither sure of what she 
 seeks nor conscious of what forces impel or check her. 
 She remains a Salamander only so long as she has not 
 taken a decision to enter life by one of the thousand ave- 
 nues down which in her running course she has caught 
 an instant vista. Her name disappears under a new self- 
 baptism. She needs but a little money and so occasion- 
 ally does a little work. She brings no letters of introduc- 
 tion, but she comes resolved to know whom she chooses. 
 She meets them all, the men of New York, the mediocre, 
 the interesting, the powerful, the flesh hunters, the brutes 
 and those who seek only an amused mental relaxation. 
 She attracts them by hook or crook, in defiance of eti- 
 quette, compelling their attention in ways that at the 
 start hopelessly mystify them and lead to mistakes. Then 
 she calmly sets them to rights and forgives them. If she 
 runs recklessly in the paths of danger, it is because to
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 her obsessed curiosity it is imperative for her to try to 
 comprehend what this danger can mean. 
 
 She has no salon to receive her guests she turns her 
 bedroom at noon into a drawing-room, not inviting every 
 one, but to those to whom she extends the privilege fiercely 
 regulating the proprieties. She may have a regular oc- 
 cupation or an occasional one, neither must interfere with 
 her liberty of pleasure. She needs money she acquires 
 it indirectly, by ways that bear no offense to her delight- 
 fully illogical but keen sensibilities. With one man she 
 will ride in his automobile, far into the night to another 
 she will hardly accord the tips of her gloves. She makes 
 no mistakes. Her head is never dizzy. Her mind is in 
 control and she knows at every moment what she is do- 
 ing. She will dare only so far as she knows she is safe. 
 
 She runs the gamut of the city, its high lights and its 
 still shadows. She enters by right behind its varied 
 scenes. She breakfasts on one egg and a cup of coffee, 
 takes her luncheon from a high-legged stool in a cellar 
 restaurant, reluctantly counting out the change, and the 
 same night, with supreme indolence, descends from a 
 luxurious automobile, before the flaring portals of the 
 restaurant most in fashion, giving her fingers to those 
 who rank among the masters of the city. 
 
 This curiosity that leads her to flit from window to 
 window has in it no vice. It is fed only by the zest of 
 life. Her passion is to know, to leave no cranny unex- 
 plored, to see, not to experience, to flit miraculously 
 through the flames never to be consumed ! 
 
 That her standard of conduct is marvelous, that her 
 ideas of what is permitted and what is forbidden are 
 mystifying, is true. So too is it difficult to comprehend, 
 in the society of men of the world, what is fair and what
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 is unfair, what is "done" and what is not "done." To 
 understand the Salamander, to appreciate her significance 
 as a criticism of our present social forms, one must first 
 halt and consider what changes are operating in our 
 social system. 
 
 If one were privileged to have the great metropolis of 
 New York reduced to microcosm at his feet, to be studied 
 as man may study the marvelous organism of the ant- 
 hill or the hive, two curious truths would become evi- 
 dent. First that those whom the metropolis engenders 
 seldom succeed their fathers, that they move in circles as 
 it were, endlessly revolving about a fixed idea, appar- 
 ently stupefied by the colossal shadows under which they 
 have been born; secondly that daily, hourly even, a 
 stream of energetic young men constantly arrives from 
 the unknown provinces, to reinvigorate the city, rescue it 
 from stagnation, ascending abruptly to its posts of com- 
 mand, assuming direction of its manifold activities 
 ruling it. 
 
 Further, one would perceive that the history of the city 
 is the result of these two constantly opposed forces, one 
 striving to conserve, the other to acquire. The inheritors 
 constantly seek to define the city's forms, encase its so- 
 ciety, limit its opportunities, transform its young activi- 
 ties into inheritable institutions ; while the young and 
 ardent adventurers who come with no other baggage than 
 their portmanteaux of audacity and sublime disdain, are 
 constantly firing it with their inflaming enthusiasm, puri- 
 fying it with their new health, forcing the doors of re- 
 luctant sets, storming its giant privileges, modernizing its 
 laws, vitalizing its arts, capturing its financial hierarchies, 
 opposing to the solidifying force of attempted systems
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 their liberating corrective of opportunity and individual- 
 ism. Of the two forces, only the conqueror from with- 
 out is important. 
 
 This phenomenon of immigration is neither new nor 
 peculiar to our civilization. It is indeed the living prin- 
 ciple of a metropolis which, as it requires food, water, 
 fire for its material existence, must also hourly levy, 
 Minotaur-like, its toll on foreign youth. Woman has 
 had no counterpart to this life-giving fermentation of 
 young men. The toll of the metropolis has been the toll 
 of corruption, spreading corruption, and this continuous 
 flow of the two sexes through the gates of the city has 
 been like the warring passage through the arteries of red 
 life-defending corpuscles and disease-bearing germs. 
 
 Now suddenly to one who thus profoundly meditates 
 this giant scheme, a new phenomenon has appeared. All 
 at once amid the long stretching lines of young men that 
 seek the city from the far horizon appear the figures of 
 young women, not by hundreds but by the thousands, 
 following in the steps of their brothers, wage-earners 
 animated by the same desire for independence, eager and 
 determined for a larger view of life, urged outward by 
 the same imperative revolt against stagnation, driven by 
 the same unrest for the larger horizon. This culmina- 
 tive movement, begun in the decline of the nineteenth 
 century, may well be destined to mark the twentieth 
 century as the great era of social readjustment. 
 
 In the past the great block to woman's complete and 
 equal communion with man has been her economic de- 
 pendence on him; while she has not been necessary to 
 man, man has been necessary to her. Hence her forced 
 acceptation of his standard of her position and her du- 
 ties. In one generation, by this portentous achievement
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 of economic independence, woman in a night, like Wolfe 
 on the Plains of Abraham, has suddenly elevated herself 
 to a position of aggressive equality. Those who see in 
 the feminine movement no further than a question of f 
 political expediency perceive no more than a relatively 
 unimportant manifestation. What has happened is that 
 the purely masculine conception of society has been sud- 
 denly put to the challenge. Man's conception of religion, 
 of marriage and the family, of property rights versus sen- 
 timental rights, of standards of conduct and political ex- 
 pediency, imperfect and groping as they have been, will, 
 in the future, progress according to a new alliance be- 
 tween man and woman. And this world revolution has 
 come, day by day, month after month, in the spectacle of 
 young women, bundles in arms, light of purse, rebel in 
 heart, moving in silent thousands toward the great cities. 
 In this new army of women who have now intrenched 
 themselves in the strongholds of economic independence, 
 there are two distinct but related divisions, the great mass 
 who must work and the relatively smaller class, socially 
 more significant, who must live, those, of whom the Sala- 
 manders are the impatient outstripping advance, who are 
 determined to liberate their lives and claim the same 
 rights of judgment as their brothers. 
 
 What has brought this great emigration to pass ? Sev- 
 eral causes, some actively impelling, others merely pas- 
 sively liberating the taking down of weakened bars. 
 
 The causes which have actively impelled this liberating 
 emigration are more clearly perceived, the causes which 
 have passively permitted this removal of the bars are less 
 obvious. We are a society of passage between two 
 ports. Scarcely can we recall the thin shores we have
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 departed, nor can any one foretell what outlines, at the 
 end of the voyage, will rise out of the sea of experiment. 
 In every social revolution there are three distinct genera- 
 tions, the first of intrenched traditions, the second of vio- 
 lent reaction and the third of reconstruction. And if it 
 seem a law of nature's tireless action and reaction that 
 fathers and sons should be ever set against one another, 
 ever misunderstanding one another, the true measure of 
 human progress lies in that degree of change which re- 
 sults between the first and the third generations. Be- 
 tween this old generation of authority and this present 
 generation of logic has come a feminine revolution start- 
 ling in the shock of its abruptness. Yet a social revolu- 
 tion that obliterates in an hour the landmarks of ages, 
 frequently resembles a cataclysm of nature the gather- 
 ing torrent only becomes possible with the last six inches 
 of earth. What has broken out in these last half a dozen 
 years has been accumulating without beginning for 
 ideas can have no beginnings. They have existed in 
 the unconscious human soul as the germ of physical evo- 
 lution has lain among the glaciers and the wilderness. 
 
 What then was the position of women under the old 
 order? That generation of authority was intrenched in 
 the great social domination of the church. What in effect 
 did religion say to women ? It said : 
 
 "Remember always that this life is of no moment. It 
 is given you that you may inherit eternity. Reckon not 
 the present, aspire to the next. Abnegation is glorious, 
 suffering is to be prized, sacrifices patiently made bring 
 you by so much nearer to Heaven. Subordinate yourself, 
 bear everything, accept all burdens gladly. Live for 
 others ; forgive, inspire. If this life seem to you narrow
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 and motherhood staggering, bleak, joyless, think not on 
 the fatigue but on the awakening." 
 
 With the turning of men's minds to the dormant truths 
 of science came a great agnostic revolt that brought a 
 scientific questioning of all facts and a demand that 
 everything should fall or stand by the test of the reason. 
 In this new enthusiasm for logic, which has overturned 
 so many rooted institutions with its militant individual- 
 ism, the authority of the home has been shattered, divorce 
 has been multiplied in the protest against the old unrea- 
 soning tyranny of marriage, and the Puritan domination 
 of the church has too often become a social institution for 
 the better ordering of the masses and an outward form of 
 polite respectability. In this complete breaking down of 
 authority the voice of the church that spoke to women 
 has been lost. 
 
 Another troubling phase began simultaneously, the pe- 
 riod of miraculous material opportunity, the fungus 
 growth of fortunes great and little. The suddenly pros- 
 perous parents began to plan for their children those op- 
 portunities which had been denied them, seeking to edu- 
 cate them beyond what they had known a process ever 
 linked with tragedy and disillusionment. What now re- 
 sults, with the thousands of young girls who have learned 
 of magazines and novels or who have gone out from the 
 confining narrowness of little homes to a broader educa- 
 tion not simply in books but in the experience of life, of 
 a certain independency, of the opportunities beyond ? 
 
 At about the age of eighteen the Salamander returns 
 to town or village, to the mediocrity of the home from 
 which she has escaped, and at once the great choice of
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 life presents itself to her. What she has learned, what 
 she has absorbed from every newspaper has awakened 
 her curiosity and given her a hunger of the great life 
 which is throbbing somewhere, far away, in great cities, 
 in a thousand fascinating forms. 
 
 To remain, to take up a mild drudgery in the home, 
 means closing the door on this curiosity. Marriage to 
 such men as remain means at best the renunciation of 
 that romance which is stirring in her imagination. Why 
 should she have been educated, if but to return to a dis- 
 tasteful existence? The parents by the very education 
 which has thrust their daughter so far above their simple 
 needs have destroyed their old authority. No other voice 
 of authority commands her in credible tones to renounce 
 the follies of this life to consult only the future. 
 
 In fact she is none too certain of what is beyond, but 
 she is certain of what she wants to-day. She spurns the 
 doctrine that it is woman's position to abnegate and to 
 immolate herself. New ideas are stirring within her, 
 logical revolts equality of burden with men, equality of 
 opportunity and of pleasure. She is sure of one life only 
 and that one she passionately desires. She wants to live 
 that life to its fullest, now, in the glory of her youth. 
 She wants to breathe, not to stifle. She wants adventure. 
 She wants excitement and mystery. She wants to see, to 
 know, to experience. . . . 
 
 And one fine day, inevitably, she packs her valise as 
 her brothers may have done before her, and despite com- 
 mands, entreaties, tears, she stands at last on the plat- 
 form of a shivering creaking train, waving the inevitable 
 farewell to the old people, who stand bewildered, strain- 
 ing their eyes after the fast-fading handkerchief, feebly 
 fluttered by the daughter whom they have educated for
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 this. She will come back soon. She will return in a few 
 months in a year, surely. She never returns. 
 
 Sometimes the home has been disrupted by divorce, by 
 death or by indifference ; in which case her departure is 
 the sooner. Sooner or later if she is clever or attractive 
 she reaches New York. New York is the troubling light 
 whose rays penetrate to her wherever she may start. At 
 last, one fine day, she crowds impatiently forward to the 
 front of the choked ferry-boat, beholds the play of a 
 million lights starting against the twilight, vast shapes 
 crowding to the water's edge like mythological monsters, 
 towers flinging up new stars among the constellations 
 and the battle has begun. 
 
 What will she become ? In six months she has learned 
 the anatomy of the complex struggling city, flinging her- 
 self into a ceaseless whirl of excitement. She usually 
 finds a facile occupation which gives her the defense and 
 the little ready money she needs. She goes into journal- 
 ism, stenography or the office of a magazine. Sometimes 
 she has already been trained to nursing, which opens 
 many avenues of acquaintance to her deft planning. 
 Sometimes she has a trick with pen or pencil and plays 
 at art. More often she touches the stage in one of a 
 dozen ways. But all this is beside the mark. Her real 
 occupation is exploration how do they act, these men, 
 clever or stupid, rich, poor, mediocre, dangerous or pro- 
 vokingly easy to manage? What is the extent of the 
 power that she can exert over them ? 
 
 Her education has been quickly formed. The great 
 fraternity of the Salamanders has taught her of their 
 curious devious understanding. Her acquaintance with 
 women is necessarily limited, but she can meet what men
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 she wishes, men of every station, men drawn to her by 
 the lure of her laughter and tantalizing arts, men who 
 simply wish to amuse themselves, or somber hunters who 
 have passed beyond the common stuff of adventuresses 
 and seek with a renewal of excitement this corruption of 
 innocence. She has no fear of these last, matching her 
 wits against their appetites, paying them back cruelly in 
 snare and disillusion. She lives in automobiles and taxi- 
 cabs, dines in a new restaurant every night and with 
 difficulty, each week, scrapes up the necessary dollars to 
 pay her board. She knows the insides of pawn-shops, has 
 secret treaties with tradesmen and by a hundred strata- 
 gems procures herself presents which may be converted 
 into cash. She is fascinated by "dangerous" men. She 
 adores perilous adventures and somehow or other, mi- 
 raculously, she never fails in saving her skirts from the 
 contagion of the flames. 
 
 The period in which she whirls in this frantic existence 
 the day of the Salamander is between eighteen and 
 twenty-five. She does not make the mistake of prolong- 
 ing, beyond her youth and her charm, this period fas- 
 cinating though it be. By twenty-five, often sooner, she 
 comes to some decision. Frequently she marries, and 
 marries well, for the opportunities at her disposal are 
 innumerable. Then what she becomes must depend on 
 the invisible hazards that sport with all marriages. Some- 
 times she selects a career few women, indeed, are there 
 in the professions who have not known their years among 
 the Salamanders but as she is always ruled by her brain, 
 she does not often deceive herself ; she sees clearly the 
 road ahead and seldom ventures unless she is convinced. 
 Sometimes she prefers her single existence, resigning 
 herself to a steady occupation, slipping back into Sala-
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 manderland occasionally. Sometimes more rarely than 
 it would seem she takes the open step beyond the social 
 pale, conquered at length by the antagonists she has so 
 long eluded but then she has betrayed the faith of a 
 Salamander. 
 
 To a European, the Salamanders are incomprehensible. 
 He meets them often en voyage, often to the cost of his 
 pride, and for his vanity's sake he denies their innocence. 
 In his civilization they could not exist. Even the New 
 Yorker, who analyzes her surface manners, recounts her 
 tricks and evasions, her deceptive advances, is still igno- 
 rant of the great currents beneath, and of how profound 
 is their unrest. 
 
 For, capricious, inconsistent, harum-scarum, dabbling 
 with fire yet is she not the free agent she so ardently be- 
 lieves ? Back of all the passionate revolt against the com- 
 monplace in life, back of all the defiantly proclaimed 
 scorn of conventions, there are the hushed echoes of the 
 retreating first generation, there are old memories, whis- 
 pers of childhood faith, hesitations and doubts that re- 
 turn and return, and these quiet suspended sounds con- 
 stantly turn her aside, make of her a being constantly at 
 war with herself, where will and instinct are ever op- 
 posed without she perceives or comprehends the where- 
 for. 
 
 We see clearly two generations, the old order of broken 
 authority passing sadly away, the new which is bravely 
 seeking a logical standard of conduct beyond that of 
 blind obedience if yet the time be arrived when human- 
 ity be ready. The third that coming generation in 
 which woman will count for so much, where for the first ,
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 time she will construct and order where will it go? 
 Backward a little or forward? Will those who have 
 been Salamanders to-day, turned mothers to-morrow, 
 still teach what they have proclaimed, that what is wrong 
 for the woman is wrong for the man and that if man may 
 experience woman may explore ?
 
 THE SALAMANDER
 
 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE day was Thursday; the month, October, 
 rushing to its close; and the battered alarm- 
 clock on the red mantel stood at precisely one o'clock. 
 The room was enormous, high and generally dim, 
 the third floor front of Miss Pirn's boarding-house 
 on lower Madison Avenue. Of its four windows, 
 two, those at the side, had been blinded by the up- 
 rising of an ugly brick wall, which seemed to impend 
 over the room, crowding into it, depriving it of air. 
 The two windows fronting on the avenue let in two 
 shafts of oblique sunlight. The musty violet paper 
 on the walls, blistered in spots, was capped by a frieze 
 of atrocious pink and blue roses. The window-shades, 
 which had been pulled down to shut out the view of 
 the wall, failed to reach the bottom. The curtain- 
 rods were distorted, the globes on the gas fixtures 
 bitten and smoked. At the back, an alcove held a 
 small bed, concealed under a covering of painted east- 
 ern material. An elongated gilt mirror, twelve feet 
 in height, leaned against the corner. Trunks were 
 scattered about, two open and newly ransacked. A 
 folding-bed transformed into a couch, heaped with
 
 2 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 cushions, was between the blind windows: opposite, 
 a ponderous rococo dressing-table, the mirror stuffed 
 with visiting-cards, photographs and mementoes. 
 Half a dozen vases of flowers brilliant chrysanthe- 
 mums, heavily scented violets, American Beauty roses, 
 slender and nodding fought bravely against the per- 
 vading dinginess. On the large central table stood 
 a basket of champagne, newly arrived, a case of as- 
 sorted perfumes, a box of white evening gloves and 
 two five-pound boxes of candy in fancy baskets. 
 
 Before the mirrored dressing-table, tiptoe on a 
 trunk, a slender girlish figure was studying solicitously 
 the effect of gold stockings and low russet shoes with 
 buckles of green enamel. She w r as in a short skirt 
 and Russian blouse, rich and velvety in material, of 
 a creamy rose-gold luster. The sunlight which struck 
 at her ankles seemed to rise about her body, suffusing 
 it with the glow of joy and youth. The neck was 
 bare ; the low, broad, rolling silk collar, which followed 
 the graceful lines of the shoulders beneath, was 
 softened by a full trailing bow of black silk at the 
 throat. A mass of tumbling, tomboy, golden hair, 
 breaking in luxuriant tangles over the clear temples, 
 crowned the head with a garland. Just past twenty- 
 two, her figure was the figure of eighteen, by every 
 descending line, even to the little ankles and feet, 
 finely molded. 
 
 She had elected to call herself, according to the cus- 
 tom of the Salamanders, Dore Baxter. The two 
 names, incongruously opposed, were like the past and 
 the present of her wandering history : the first, brilliant,
 
 "What do you really tliink?
 
 THE SALAMANDER 3 
 
 daring, alive with the imperious zest and surprise of 
 youth; the second baldly realistic, bleak, like a dis- 
 tant threatening uprise of mountains. 
 
 On the couch, languidly lost among the cushions, 
 Winona Horning (likewise a nom de guerre) was 
 abandoned in lazy attention. In the embrasure of one 
 window, camped tailor fashion in a large armchair, a 
 woman was studying a role, beating time with one 
 finger, mumbling occasionally: 
 
 " Tum-tum-ti-tumpety-tum-tum-tum ! 
 
 I breakfast in diamonds, I bathe in cream. 
 
 What's the use? What's the use?" 
 
 Snyder she called herself Miss, but passed for 
 being divorced was not of the fraternity of the 
 Salamanders. Dore Baxter had found her in ill 
 health, out of a position, discouraged and desperate; 
 and in a characteristic impulse, against all remon- 
 strances, had opened her room to her until better days. 
 The other Salamanders did not notice her presence or 
 admit her equality. She seemed not to perceive their 
 hostility, never joining in their conversation, going 
 and coming silently. 
 
 The sharp shaft of the sun, bearing down like a 
 spot-light, brought into half relief the mature lines of 
 the body and the agreeable, if serious, features. The 
 brown head, with a defiance of coquetry, was simply 
 dressed, braided about with stiff rapid coils. The 
 dress was black, the waist unrelieved the costume 
 of the woman who works. What made the effect 
 seem all the more severe was that there was more than
 
 4 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 a trace of beauty in the face and form a prettiness 
 evidently disdained and repressed. One shoe, pro- 
 jecting into the light, was noticeably worn at the heel. 
 
 All at once, without turning, the girl on the trunk, 
 twisting anxiously before the mirror, exclaimed: 
 
 " Winona, what do you really think?" 
 
 " It doesn't show from here." 
 
 " How can you see from there ? Come over 
 nearer ! " 
 
 Winona Horning, taller, more thoughtful in her 
 movements, rose reluctantly, fixing a strand of jet- 
 black hair which had strayed, and seated herself ac- 
 cording to the command of a little finger. Her com- 
 plexion was very pale against the black of her hair, 
 her eyes were very large, given to violent and sudden 
 contrasts, more intense and more restless than her com- 
 panion's. 
 
 "And now?" said Dore, lifting the glowing skirt 
 the fraction of an inch. 
 
 " Still all right." 
 
 "Really?" 
 
 "Really!" 
 
 "And now?" 
 
 " Um-m yes, now it shows ! " 
 
 On the golden ankle a mischievous streak of white 
 had appeared a seam outrageously rent. 
 
 "Heavens, what a fix! I've just got to wear 
 them! " said Dore, dropping her skirts with a move- 
 ment of impatience. 
 
 " Estelle has a pair " 
 
 " She needs them at three. We can't connect ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 5 
 
 "Bah! Dazzle with the left leg, then, Dodo," re- 
 plied Winona, giving her her pet name. 
 
 Dore accepted the suggestion with a burst of 
 laughter, and springing lightly down, seated herself 
 on the trunk. 
 
 " Yes yes, it can be done," she said presently, 
 after a moment's practising. " If I don't forget! " 
 
 " You won't," said Winona, with a smile. 
 
 Snyder rose from her seat, and without paying the 
 slightest attention to this serious comedy, crossed the 
 room and returned to her post, bringing a pencil, with 
 which she began eagerly to jot down a few notes. 
 
 "Like the effect?" said Dore, leaving the mirror 
 with a last glance, the tip of her tongue appearing a 
 moment through the sharp white rows of teeth, in 
 the abstraction of her gaze. 
 
 She turned, and for the first time her eyes raised 
 themselves expectantly. They were of a deep ultra- 
 marine blue, an unusual cloudy shade which gave an 
 unexpected accent of perplexity to the fugitive white 
 and pink of the cheek. 
 
 " Perfectly dandy, Dodo ; but " 
 
 At this moment from the little antechamber out- 
 side the door came the irritable silvery ring of the 
 telephone. 
 
 " See who it is," said Dore quickly. " Remember ! 
 you don't know if I'm in find out first." 
 
 As Winona crossed toward the back, Dore turned 
 with a mute interrogation toward the figure in the 
 window, and extending her arms, pirouetted slowly 
 twice. Lottie Snyder responded with a sudden smile
 
 6 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 that lighted up her features with a flash of beauty. 
 She nodded twice emphatically, continuing to gaze 
 with kindness and affection. Then she took up her 
 role bruskly as Winona returned. 
 
 "It's a Mr. Chester Cheshire? What shall I 
 say?" 
 
 " Chesterton," said Dore. " I'll go." 
 
 She consumed a moment searching among the over- 
 flow of gloves on the trunk-tray, and went to the tele- 
 phone, without closing the door. Winona, not to 
 speak to Snyder, began to manicure her hands. 
 From tire hall came the sounds of broken conversation : 
 
 " Hello? Who is it? . . . Yes, this is Miss Baxter 
 . . . Who? . . . Huntington? . . . Oh, yes, Chester- 
 ton ... of course I remember . . . How do you do ? 
 . . . I'm just up. ... Yes, splendid dance! . . . 
 What? . . . To-night? . . . No-o. . . . Who else is 
 in the party ? . . . Just us two ? . . . No, I guess not ! 
 . . . Aren't you a little sudden, Mr. Chesterton ? . . . 
 Not with you alone. . . . Oh, yes; but I'm very 
 formal! That's where you make your mistake. . . . 
 Certainly, I'd go with a good many men, but not with 
 you. . . . Not till I really know you. . . . Now, I'm 
 going to tell you something, Mr. Chesterton. I'm not 
 like other girls, I play fair. I expect men to make 
 mistakes one mistake. I always forgive once, and 
 I always give one warning just one! You under- 
 stand? All right! I won't say any more! . . . No, 
 I'm not offended. . . . I'm quite used to such mis- 
 takes: they sort of follow dances, don't they? . . . 
 Well, that's nice; I'm glad you understand me. . . .
 
 THE SALAMANDER 7 
 
 Some men don't, you know! . . . That's very flat- 
 tering! ... If what? ... If it's made a party of 
 four? . . . That would be different, yes. . . . Try 
 telephone me about six and I'll let you know. . . . 
 No, I couldn't say definitely now ; I'll have to try and 
 get out of another party. . . . No, I haven't seen that 
 play yet. . . . Phone at six. . . . Oh, dear me! 
 How easily you repeat that! . . . Why, yes, I liked 
 you; I thought you danced the Hesitation perfectly 
 dandy. ..." (A laugh.) "Well, that's enough. 
 ... I can't promise. . . . Phone, anyhow. . . . 
 Good-by. . . . Yes, oh, yes. . . . Good-by. . . . Not 
 offended! Oh, no! ... Good-by!" 
 
 She came back, and extending her fingers above 
 her head, said: 
 
 " So high ! " She brought her hands close together : 
 " So thin ! A monocle badly tamed a ladylike 
 mustache all I remember ! Oh, yes, he said he had 
 two automobiles most important ! " She shrugged 
 her shoulders and added maliciously : " We'll put him 
 down, anyhow last call for dinner! ... So you 
 don't like my costume?" 
 
 " That isn't it ! " said Winona. She turned, hesi- 
 tating : " Only, for an orgy of old Sassoon's." 
 
 " Orgy," in the lexicon of the Salamanders, is a 
 banquet in the superlative of lavishness; on the other 
 hand, a dinner or a luncheon that has the slightest 
 taint of economy is derogatorily known as a " tea- 
 party." 
 
 " It's my style it's me! " said Dore, with a confi- 
 dent bob of her head.
 
 8 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Those girls will come all Gussied up for Sassoon," 
 persisted Winona. " Staggering under the war- 
 paint ! " 
 
 " Let me alone," said Dodo ; " I know what I'm 
 doing!" 
 
 She knew she had made no blunder. The costume 
 exhaled a perfume of freshness and artless charm, 
 from the daintiness with which the throat was revealed, 
 from the slight youthful bust delicately defined under 
 the informality of the blouse, to the long descending 
 clinging of the coat, which followed, half-way to the 
 knee, lines of young and slender grace which can not 
 be counterfeited. 
 
 " It's individual it's me," she repeated, running 
 her little hands caressingly down the slim undulation 
 of the waist, caught in by the trim green belt. 
 
 The telephone rang a second time. 
 
 " Joe Gilday," said Winona presently, covering the 
 mouthpiece with her hand. 
 
 " Say I'm in," said Dore hastily, in a half whisper. 
 " Now go back and say I'm out ! " 
 
 "What's wrong?" said Winona, opening her eyes. 
 
 " Needs disciplining." 
 
 " He knows you're here says he must speak to 
 you," said the emissary, reappearing. 
 
 " Tell him I am, and won't," said Dore mercilessly. 
 
 Snyder, with a sudden recognition of the clock, rose, 
 and going to a trunk, pounced on a sailor hat, slap- 
 ping it on her head without looking in the mirror. 
 She came and planted herself before Dore, who had 
 watched her, laughing.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 9 
 
 " Beating it up to Blainey's," she said. The voice 
 was low, but with a slur that accused ordinary ante- 
 cedents. " Say, he's dipped on you ; got a fat part 
 salted away if you ever turn up! Why don't you 
 see him? " ' 
 
 " I will I will." 
 
 " Look here. You're not going to let everything 
 slip this season, too, are you?" 
 
 "How do I know what I'll do to-morrow?" said 
 Dore, laughing. 
 
 " Aren't you ever going to settle down ? " 
 
 "Yes, indeed; in a year!" 
 
 " It's a real fat part ; you're crazy to lose the 
 chance ! " 
 
 " Tell Blainey to be patient ; I'm going to be serious 
 soon!" 
 
 "See him!" 
 
 "I will I will!" 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " To-rnorrow perhaps." 
 
 She took Snyder by the shoulders, readjusting the 
 hat. 
 
 " Aren't you ashamed to treat yourself this way ! 
 You can be real pretty, if you want to." 
 
 " When I want to, I am," said Snyder, shrugging 
 her shoulders, but opposing no resistance to the re- 
 arrangement of her costume. 
 
 " Snyder, you do it on purpose ! " said Dore, vexed 
 at the hang of the skirt, which resisted her efforts. 
 
 Winona reentered. She had heard the conversa- 
 tion with one ear, while extending comfort to the
 
 io THE SALAMANDER 
 
 frantic Gilday in disgrace. Snyder, with the entree 
 to Blainey, manager for the Lipswitch and Berger Cir- 
 cuit, aroused her respect with her envy. 
 
 "Snyder, what do you do all the time?" she said 
 in a conciliatory tone. 
 
 " Meaning what ? " 
 
 " You never go out never amuse yourself ! " 
 
 " I amuse myself much more than you ! " 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Winona. 
 
 "Much more. I work!" 
 
 Saying which, she flung into her jacket like a school- 
 boy, and went out without further adieus. 
 
 " Pleasant creature ! " said Winona acidly. 
 
 " It's you who are wrong," said Dore warmly. 
 "Why patronize her?" 
 
 " There is a difference between us, I think," said 
 Winona coldly. " Really, Dodo, I don't understand 
 how you can " 
 
 " Let Snyder alone," said Dore, with a flash of 
 anger. " No harm comes from being decent to some 
 one who's down. Don't be so hard you never know 
 what may happen to you ! " Seeing the flush on 
 Winona's face, she softened her tone and, her habitual 
 good humor returning, added : " If you knew her 
 struggle There! Let's drop it!" 
 
 Fortunately, the telephone broke in on the tension. 
 Another followed, even before she had left the ante- 
 room. The first was an invitation from Roderigo 
 Sanderson, one of Broadway's favorite leading men, 
 to a dress rehearsal of a new comic opera that promised 
 to be the rage of the season. While secretly delighted
 
 THE SALAMANDER n 
 
 at the prospect, Dore answered, in a tone of subdued 
 suffering, that she was in bed with a frightful head- 
 ache that, though it seemed to be improving, she 
 couldn't tell how she would feel later, and adjourned 
 a decision until six, at which hour he was to telephone. 
 She gave the same reply to the second invitation, a 
 proposition from Donald Bacon, a broker, who was 
 organizing a party for a cabaret dance later in the 
 evening. 
 
 "Hurray! Now I can have a choice," she said, 
 tripping gaily back and pirouetting twice on her left 
 foot. Suddenly she stopped, folding her arms sav- 
 agely. 
 
 "Winona!" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "I'm bored!" 
 
 "Since when?" 
 
 "Don't laugh! Really, I am unhappy! If some- 
 thing exciting would happen if I could fall in 
 love!" 
 
 'You will be when you come back!" 
 
 "Yes that's the trouble!" said Dore, laughing. 
 " But it never lasts ! " 
 
 " And day before yesterday ? " 
 
 "What about it?" 
 
 " That wonderful Italian you came home raving 
 about?" 
 
 " Ah, yes! that was a great disappointment! " She 
 repeated, in a tone of discouragement : " A great dis- 
 appointment! It's the second meeting that's so aw- 
 ful ! Men are so stupid, it's no fun any more ! " All
 
 12 
 
 at once she noticed her friend's attitude. " What's 
 the matter? You're not angry!" 
 
 " No, not that ! " Winona rose, flinging down the 
 manicuring sticks, drawing a deep breath. " Only, 
 when I see you throwing over a chance like that from 
 Blainey " 
 
 "What! You want the job?" exclaimed Dore, 
 struck by the thought. 
 
 "Want it?" cried the girl bitterly. "I'd go up 
 Broadway on my knees to get it ! " 
 
 "Why didn't you tell me?" 
 
 " Ah ! this has got to end sometime," said the girl, 
 locking and unlocking her fingers. " Snyder was 
 right. It's work work ! She's lucky ! " 
 
 Dore became suddenly thoughtful. Between Sala- 
 manders real confidences are rare. She knew nothing 
 of the girl who was separated from her but by a wall, 
 but there was no mistaking the pain in her voice. 
 
 " I'm sorry ! " she said. 
 
 " Yes, I've come to the end of my rope," said 
 Winona. " I'm older than you I've played too 
 long!" 
 
 "You shall have the job!" 
 
 " Oh, it's easy to " 
 
 " I'll go to-morrow. I'll make Blainey give it to 
 you." 
 
 "He won't!" 
 
 "He? Of course he will! That old walrus? 
 He'll do anything I tell him! That's settled! I'll 
 see him tec-morrow ! " 
 
 Winona turned, composing her passion.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 13 
 
 "I'm a fool!" she said. 
 
 "Hard up?" 
 
 ""Busted!" 
 
 " The deuce ! So'm I ! Never mind ; we'll find some 
 way " 
 
 " Why don't you take the job yourself? " 
 
 " I ? Never ! I couldn't ! It's too soon to be se- 
 rious ! " exclaimed Dore, laughing in order to relieve 
 the tension. " When I'm twenty-three in six 
 months not before! It's all decided." 
 
 " First time you've been to one of Sassoon's 
 parties?" asked Winona abruptly. 
 
 " First time ! I'm quite excited ! " 
 
 "You've met him, then?" 
 
 " No, not yet ! I'm going as a chorus girl." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "He's entertaining the sextette of the Gay Prince 
 I'm to replace one. I got the bid through Adele 
 Vickers you remember her? She's in the sex- 
 tette." 
 
 " Adele Vickers," said Winona, with a frown. 
 
 " It's on the quiet, naturally," said Dore, not notic- 
 ing the expression. " I'm to be taken for a chorus 
 girl, by old Sassoon too complications, heaps of 
 fun!" 
 
 " You're crazy ! Some one'll recognize you ! " 
 
 "Bah!" 
 
 " Sassoon doesn't play fair ! " said Winona abruptly. 
 
 " Dangerous ? " 
 
 " He doesn't play the game fair ! " repeated Winona, 
 with more insistence.
 
 I 4 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " I like precipices ! " said Dore, smiling. 
 
 " How you express things, Dodo ! " 
 
 " Why? Don't you like 'em? " 
 
 " Yes, naturally. But with Sassoon " 
 
 " It's such fun ! " said Dore, shaking her curls. 
 
 Her companion crossed her fingers and held them 
 up in warning. 
 
 "Dodo, be careful!" 
 
 "I'll take care of myself!" said Dore scornfully, 
 and a flash of excitement began to show in the dark 
 blue shadows of her eyes. 
 
 " Different ! Sassoon is on the black list, Dodo ! " 
 
 Albert Edward Sassoon, whom two little Sala- 
 manders were thus discussing in a great barn of a 
 room, third floor front of Miss Pirn's boarding-house, 
 was the head of the great family of Sassoon, which for 
 three generations had stood, socially and financially, 
 among the first powers of the city. 
 
 " Thanks for the warning. When you know, you 
 know what to do!" said Dore carelessly. "Just let 
 him try!" 
 
 The admonition troubled her not at all. She had 
 met and scored others before who in the secret code 
 of the Salamanders were written down unfair. The 
 prospect of such an antagonist brought to her- a little 
 more animation. She bolted into a snug-fitting fur 
 toque, brightened by a flight of feathers at the side, 
 green with a touch of red. 
 
 " There ! " she exclaimed merrily. " A bit of the 
 throat, a bit of the ankle, and a slash of red that's 
 Dodo! What's the time?"
 
 THE SALAMANDER 15 
 
 " Twenty past. Who's your prop ? " 
 
 " Stacey." 
 
 " Prop," in the lexicon of the Salamanders, is a 
 term obviously converted from the theatrical " prop- 
 erty." A "prop," in Salamanderland, is a youth not 
 too long out of the nest to be rebellious, possessed of 
 an automobile a sine qua non and agitated by a 
 patriotic craving to counteract the evil effects of the 
 hoarding of gold. Each Salamander of good stand- 
 ing counts from three to a dozen props, carefully 
 broken, kept in a state of expectant gratitude, genii 
 of the telephone waiting a summons to fetch and carry, 
 purchase tickets of all descriptions, lead the way to 
 theater or opera, and, above all, to fill in those blank 
 dates, or deferred engagements, which otherwise might 
 become items of personal expense. 
 
 At this moment the curly brown head of Ida Sum- 
 mers, of the second floor back, bobbed in and out, say- 
 ing in a stage whisper: 
 
 " Black Friday ! Beware ! The cat's loose ram- 
 paging!" 
 
 It was a warning that Miss Pirn, in a periodic spasm 
 of alarm, was spreading dismay through the two 
 houses in her progress in 'search of long-deferred 
 rents. 
 
 " Horrors ! " exclaimed Winona Horning. She 
 sprang to the door which gave into her room, ready to 
 use it as an escape from either attack. 
 
 ''Twice this week. Um-m means business!" 
 said Dore solemnly. " I'm three weeks behind. How 
 are you ? "
 
 i6 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 "Five!" 
 
 " We must get busy," said Dore pensively. " I 
 have just two dollars in sight! " 
 
 " Two? You're a millionaire! " 
 
 " The champagne will bring something," said Dore, 
 fingering the basket, " but I can't let it go until Mr. 
 Peavey If he'd only call up for to-night! Zip 
 might take the perfume, but I need it so ! Worse luck, 
 the flowers have all come from the wrong places. 
 There's twenty dollars there, if it were only Pouffe. 
 And look at this ! " 
 
 She went to her bureau, and opening a little drawer, 
 held up a bank-note. 
 
 "Fifty dollars!" exclaimed Winona, amazed. 
 
 " Ridiculous, isn't it ? " said Dore, with a laugh, 
 shutting it up again. "Joe Gilday had the imperti- 
 nence to slip it in there, after I had refused a loan ! " 
 
 " What ! Angry for that ? " said Winona, carried 
 away by the famine the money had awakened in her. 
 
 " Certainly I am ! " said Dore energetically. " Do 
 you think I'd allow & man to give me money like 
 that?" 
 
 This ethical point might have been discussed, but at 
 the moment a knock broke in upon the conversation. 
 The two girls started, half expecting to behold Miss 
 Pirn's military figure advancing into the room. 
 
 " Who is it ? " said Dore anxiously. 
 
 " It's Stacey," said a docile voice. 
 
 "Shall I go?" inquired Winona, with a gesture. 
 
 "No, no stay! Always stay!" said Dore, 
 hastily stuffing back the overflowing contents of a
 
 THE SALAMANDER 17 
 
 trunk and signaling Winona to close the lid nearest 
 her. 
 
 Stacey Van Loan crowded into the room. He was 
 a splendid grenadier type of man, with the smiling 
 vacant face of a boy. He wore shoes for which he 
 paid thirty dollars, a suit that cost a hundred, a great 
 fur coat that cost eight times more, enormous fur 
 gloves, and a large pearl pin in his cravat. On enter- 
 ing, he always blushed twice, the first as an apology 
 and the second for having blushed before. The most 
 captious Salamander would have accepted him at a 
 glance as the beau ideal of a prop a perfect blend 
 of radiating expensiveness and docile timidity. Van 
 Loan Senior, of the steel nobility of Pennsylvania, had 
 insisted on his acquiring a profession after two un- 
 fortunate attempts at collegiate culture, and had exiled 
 him to New York to study law, allotting him twenty 
 thousand dollars a year to defray necessary expenses. 
 
 " Bingo ! what a knock-out ! " said Stacey, gazing 
 open-mouthed, heels together, at the glowing figure 
 "that greeted him. 
 
 Dore, who had certain expectations as to his arrival, 
 perceiving that he held one hand concealed behind 
 his back, broke into smiles. 
 
 " You sly fellow, what are you hiding there? " 
 
 " All right ? " said Van Loan, with an anxious gulp. 
 "How about it?" 
 
 He thrust out an enormous bouquet of orchids, 
 which, in his fear of appearing parsimonious, he had 
 doubled beyond all reason. The sight of these flowers 
 of luxury, the price of which would have gone a long
 
 i8 
 
 way toward placating Miss Pirn, brought a quick tele- 
 graphic glance of irony between the two girls. 
 
 "Isn't he a darling?" said Dore, taking the huge 
 floral display and stealing a glance at the ribbon, which, 
 alas, did not bear the legend Pouffe, who was approach- 
 able in time of need. " Stacey is really the most 
 thoughtful boy, and everything he gets is in perfect 
 taste. He never does anything by halves ! " 
 
 As she said this in a careless manner, which made 
 the young fellow redden to the ears with delight, she 
 was secretly smothering a desire to laugh, and wonder- 
 ing how on earth she was to divide the monstrous dis- 
 play without discouraging future exhibitions of lavish- 
 ness. She moved presently toward the back of the 
 room, saying carelessly: 
 
 " Look at my last photographs, Stacey." 
 
 Then she quickly slipped a third of the bouquet be- 
 hind a trunk, signaling Winona, and turning before 
 the long mirror, affixed the orchids, spreading them 
 loosely to conceal the defection. 
 
 " Quarter of. You'll be late ! " said Winona, mask- 
 ing the trunk with her skirts. 
 
 "I want to be! I'm not going to have a lot of 
 society women find me on the door-step! " said Dore, 
 for the benefit of the prop. " Come on, Stacey ; you 
 can look at the photos'another day ! " She flung about 
 her shoulders a white stole from the floor below, and 
 buried her hands in a muff of the same provenance. 
 " Good-by, dear. Back late. Go ahead, Stacey ! " 
 
 A moment later she reentered hurriedly. 
 
 " Give me the others, quick ! " she said, detaching
 
 THE SALAMANDER 19 
 
 those at her waist. " These are from Granard's. 
 Take them there tell them Estelle sent you ; she has 
 an arrangement with them. See what you can get. 
 Tell them we'll send 'em custom." 
 
 She completed the transfer of the smaller bunch, 
 carefully arranging the wide stole, which she pinned 
 against accidents. 
 
 " Listen. If Joe telephones again, make him call 
 me up at six don't say I said it! It's possible 
 Blainey may get it in his head to call up. I'll go with 
 him, unless unless P'eavey wants me for dinner. I 
 must see him before I dispose of the champagne un- 
 derstand ? You know what to answer the rest." She 
 hesitated, looking at the orchids : " We ought to get 
 fifteen out of them. Remember, promise them our 
 custom; use Pouffe on them. Good-by, dear!" 
 
 "Be careful!" 
 
 " Yes yes yes ! " 
 
 " Dangerous ! " 
 
 "Bah! If they only were but they're not!" 
 
 She rejoined Stacey, whose nose was sublimely at 
 the wheel, crying: 
 
 " Let her go, Stacey. Up to Tenafly's. Break the 
 speed law ! " 
 
 She started to spring in, but suddenly remembering 
 the offending stocking, stopped and ascended quietly 
 on the left foot.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 AT this time, it happened that the highest demo- 
 cratic circles of New York were thrown into a 
 turmoil of intrigue and social carnage by the visit of 
 representatives of one of the royal houses of Europe, 
 traveling under the title of the Comte and Comtesse 
 de Joncy. A banquet had been respectfully tendered 
 these rare manifestations of the principle of divine 
 right. The list of guests, directed by the autocratic 
 hand of Mrs. Albert Edward Sassoon, tore New York 
 society to shreds, and reconstituted that social map 
 which had been so opportunely established by the visit 
 of the lamented Grand Duke and Royal Imperial High- 
 ness Alexis. Twenty-five young gentlemen of irre- 
 proachable standing had flung themselves enthusiastic- 
 ally at the distinguished honor of offering soup to such 
 exalted personages, and the press of New York scru- 
 pulously published the list of honorary waiters high 
 among the important details of the probable cost per 
 plate of this extraordinary banquet. 
 
 Now, the Comte de Joncy, being profoundly bored 
 by such amateur exhibitions, had remarked to Sassoon 
 that, in his quality of traveler and student of im- 
 portant social manifestations, what had impressed him 
 most was the superior equipment, physically and men- 
 tally, of the American chorus girl. 
 
 20
 
 THE SALAMANDER 21 
 
 It was a remark that Sassoon was eminently fitted 
 to comprehend having, indeed, received the same 
 confidential observation from the Comte de Joncy's 
 last royal predecessor. The present luncheon was the 
 prompt response, and to insure the necessary freedom 
 from publicity, Harrigan Blood, editor of the New 
 York Free Press, was invited. 
 
 They waited in the brilliant Louis XVI salon of 
 that private suite which Tenafly reserved for his 
 choicest patrons, patiently prepared for that extra half- 
 hour of delay which the ladies of the chorus would be 
 sure to take in their desire to show themselves ladies 
 of the highest fashion. The curtains were open on 
 the cozy dining-room, on the .spectacle of shining 
 linen, the spark of silver and the gay color of fra- 
 grant bouquets. Two or three waiters were giving 
 the last touches under the personal supervision of 
 Tenafly himself, who accorded this mark of respect 
 only to the master who had raised him from head 
 waiter in a popular roadside inn to the management 
 of a restaurant capitalized in millions. 
 
 There were six : Sassoon, slight, waxen, bored, with 
 a wandering, fatigued glance, oriental in the length 
 of his head and the deep setting of the eyes ; the Comte 
 de Joncy, short, round-bellied, hair transparent and 
 polished, parted from the forehead to the neck, with 
 nothing of dignity except in his gesture and the agree- 
 able modulation of his voice ; Judge Massingale of the 
 magistrates court, urbane, slightly stooped in shoul- 
 ders, high in forehead, set in glance, an onlooker 
 keenly observant, and observing with a relish that
 
 22 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 showed in the tolerant humor of the thin ever-smiling 
 lips; Tom Busby, leader of cotillions and social pre- 
 scriber to a bored and desperate world, active as a 
 young girl, bald at thirty, but with a radiating charm, 
 disliking no one, never failing in zest, animating the 
 surface of gaiety, blind to ugliness below, well born 
 and indispensable; Garret Lindaberry, known better 
 as " Garry " Lindaberry, not yet thirty, framed like 
 a frontiersman, with a head molded for a statesman, 
 endowed with every mental energy except necessity, 
 burning up his superb vitality in insignificant su- 
 premacies, a magnificent man-of-war sailing without a 
 rudder, supremely elegant ; never, in the wildest orgies, 
 relaxing the control of absolute courtesy; finally, Har- 
 rigan Blood, interloper, last to arrive, abrupt and on 
 the rush, in gray cheviot, which he had assumed as a 
 flaunting of his independence before those whose mo- 
 tive for inviting him he perfectly understood. Neck 
 and shoulders massive, head capacious and already be- 
 ginning to show the stealing in of the gray, jaw strong 
 and undershot like a bulldog's, cropped mustache, fore- 
 head seamed with wrinkles, incapable of silence or at- 
 tention except when in the sudden contemplative pur- 
 suit of an idea, disdaining men, and women more than 
 men on account of the distraction they flung him into, 
 passionately devoted to ideas, he bided his time, know~ 
 ing no morality but achievement. 
 
 The group formed an interesting commentary on 
 American society of the day, which parallels that of 
 modern France, with its Bourbon, its Napoleonic and 
 its Orleanist strata of nobility. Sassoon and Mass-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 23 
 
 ingale were of the old legitimists, offshoots of families 
 that had never relaxed their supremacy from colonial 
 days; Lindaberry and Busby were inheritors in the 
 third generation of that first period of industrial ad- 
 venture, the period of the gold-fields of 1845, while 
 Harrigan Blood was of the present era of volcanic 
 opportunity, that creates in a day its marshals of the 
 Grand Army of Industry, ennobles its soldiers of yes- 
 terday, and forces the portals of established sets with 
 the golden knocking of new giants, who cast on the 
 steps the soiled garments of the factory, the mining 
 camp and the construction gang. 
 
 Past and present have given the American two dis- 
 tinct types. The characteristics of the first are aris- 
 tocratic, the thinly elongated head, the curved skull 
 balancing on a slender neck, nose and forehead ad- 
 vancing, the jaw less and less accentuated. Of the 
 second, the type of the roughly arriving adventurer, 
 Harrigan Blood was the ideal. His was the solid, 
 crust-breaking, boulder type of head, embedded on, 
 shoulders capable of propelling it upward through the 
 multitude, the democrat who places his chair roughly 
 in the overcrowded front rank, whose wife and daugh- 
 ters will crown, by way of Europe, the foundation 
 which he flings down. 
 
 " Mon cher Sassoon," said the Comte de Joncy, 
 studying Blood, who, in another group, was dis- 
 cussing the coming political campaign with Mas- 
 singale, " I'll give you a bit of advice. The animal 
 is dangerous ! I know the kind ! " 
 
 " Words words ! " said Sassoon, his wandering
 
 \ 
 
 \ 24 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 \ 
 
 eye flitting a moment to the group. " We manage 
 
 him very well." 
 
 "If you could dangle the prospect of a title before 
 his eyes," said the count, with a sardonic smile. " But 
 you what have you to offer him ? " 
 
 " Money ! " said Sassoon indifferently. " We make 
 him a partner in our operations. He won't attack 
 us!" 
 
 " He will use you ! " said De Joncy shrewdly. 
 " That type doesn't love money ! When he gets 
 as much as he wants, beware! Do you receive 
 him?" 
 
 " Oh, we invite him to half a dozen of these af- 
 fairs," said Sassoon, without looking at his com- 
 panion and speaking as if his mind were elsewhere. 
 " That keeps him to generalizations ! " 
 
 This word, which was afterward repeated, and 
 reaching the ears of Harrigan Blood, made of him an 
 overt enemy, made the Comte de Joncy smile. 
 
 " I see you, too, have your diplomacy," he said, 
 studying Sassoon with more interest. 
 
 " Yes. Generalizations are blank cartridges : they 
 can be aimed at any one," Sassoon said, without ani- 
 mation. He ran a thin forefinger over the scarce 
 mustache that mounted in a W from the full upper 
 lip. Then, raising his voice a little, he called Busby: 
 
 " I say, Buzzy, hurry things up a bit ! " 
 
 Busby, like Ganymede at a frown from Jove, de- 
 parted lightly in the direction of the ladies' dressing- 
 room. 
 
 " It's Buzzy, my darlings," he said, sticking in his
 
 THE SALAMANDER 25 
 
 beaky nose and wide grinning mouth. " You've 
 prinked enough ; I'm coming in ! " 
 
 He was immediately surrounded and assailed with 
 exclamations : 
 
 " Oh, Buzzy ! why didn't you tell us ! " 
 
 "A Royal Highness!" 
 
 " Mean thing ! not to warn us ! " 
 
 "What d'ye call His Nibs?" 
 
 "We're tickled to death!" 
 
 " Don't suffocate me, sweethearts," said Busby, de- 
 fending himself. " I didn't tell you for a damn good 
 reason. No press-agent stunts before or after. Un- 
 derstand ? Besides, the papers are bottled up demo- 
 cratic respect for His Highness." 
 
 " I've a mind to have appendicitis," said one in a 
 whisper to a companion. " Gee ! What a chance ! " 
 
 "If you do, Consuelo, dear," said Busby urbanely, 
 " we'll ship you down in a service elevator, and see 
 you get the operation, too. Now, no nonsense, girls. 
 You know what that means." 
 
 " What we've got to keep it out of the poipers ? 
 What, no publicity ? Gee ! " 
 
 " None, now or after," said Busby firmly. 
 
 All at once he looked up, astonished, perceiving 
 Dore, who floated in at this moment like a golden 
 bird. 
 
 " Gwendolyn had the sneezes," said Adele Vickers 
 hastily. " This is her sister." 
 
 " What's her name ? " said Busby suspiciously, 
 while the chorus girls, with their mountainous hats 
 and sweeping feathers, their overloaded bodices and
 
 26 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 jeweled necks, studied with some concern the simple 
 daring of this new arrival, uncertain and apprehensive. 
 
 " Miss Baxter," said Miss Vickers in a low voice. 
 
 " She's not a reporter ? " said Busby, hesitating. 
 
 " Honest to God, Buzzy," said Adele Vickers 
 vehemently. " She's on the stage, the legitimate 
 Dore Baxter, a friend of mine ! " 
 
 "I know her!" said Busby, suddenly enlightened 
 by the full name, and going to her, he said : " Met 
 you at a party of Bruce Gunther's, I believe, Miss 
 Baxter." 
 
 Dore, who thus found herself, to her vexation, sail- 
 ing under her own colors, said, with a pleading look : 
 
 "Don't give me away, will you? It's just a lark, 
 and," she added lower, " don't call me Miss Baxter! " 
 
 " A stage name, eh ? " 
 
 " Splendid one Trixie Tennyson. Doesn't that 
 sound like a head-liner?" she added confidentially, in- 
 the low tone in which the conversation had been con- 
 ducted. 
 
 Busby repeated the name, chuckling to himself, 
 yielding to his sense of humor. " All right ! Now, 
 girls, come on ! " 
 
 " But what shall we call him ? " 
 
 " Call him anything you like . . . after the soup ! " 
 said Busby, laughing. " Remember ! he's here to be 
 amused! . . . Have any of you girls changed your 
 names since I saw you last? . . . No? . . . Then I 
 know them! . . ." He told them off, counting with 
 his fingers : Adele Vickers, Georgie Gwynne it 
 used to be Bronson last year "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 27 
 
 " It never was ! " exclaimed a petite Irish brunette, 
 with a saucy smile and a roguish eye : " Baron " 
 
 " I'll give you a better one : Georgie Washing- 
 ton!" continued Busby. "Why not? Fine! ... A 
 press-agent would charge for that! ... I see an inch 
 of nose, a gray eye and a brown cheek under an ava- 
 lanche of hat must be Viola Pax ! " 
 
 " Violetta, please ! " said a southern type with soft 
 consonants. 
 
 " To be sure ! ... to be sure ! . . . Both are up- 
 to-date, though! . . . Trixie Tennyson ... ah, 
 there's a name! . . . Do you know who Tennyson 
 was, little dears? ... A great scientist who discov- 
 ered the reason why brooks go on forever ! " Adele 
 and Dore smiled, but the rest accepted the informa- 
 tion. " Paula Stuart and Consuelo . . . dear me ! 
 I never did know your last name, Consuelo, dar- 
 ling!" 
 
 " Vincent ! and cut out the guying ! " said a fair 
 buxom type, child of the Rialto. " Let's get a move 
 on!" 
 
 " Quite right ! " said Busby, offering an arm to Adele 
 Vickers and Violetta Pax. " Follow me ... al- 
 ways ! " 
 
 The dressing-room emptied itself, with a last 
 struggle for the mirror, a few hurried applications 
 of rouge, and a loosening of perfumes, while, above 
 the pleasant rustle of skirts, the voice of Georgie 
 Gwynne was heard in a stage whisper: 
 
 " Remember, girls ! Act refined ! " 
 
 Consuelo Vincent, under pretext of a cold, insisted
 
 28 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 on keeping a magnificent sable cape, which she shifted 
 constantly the better to display it. 
 
 On perceiving Busby arriving with this bouquet of 
 vermilion smiles, polished teeth and flashing eyes, the 
 Comte de Joncy, who had begun to be restless under 
 the strain of serious conversation, brightened 
 visibly, and holding out both hands, exclaimed with 
 the practised familiarity of a patron of all the 
 arts: 
 
 "Why you make me wait so long? Jolis petits 
 amours! Ah, she is charming, this one. What a 
 naughty little eye ! Oho ! something Spanish do 
 you dance the Bolero? Ah, but each is perfect 
 adorable ! I could eat every one of them ! " 
 
 But to this royal affability the ladies of the chorus, 
 very stiff, very correct, lisping a little, made answer: 
 
 " Pleased to meet you, I'm sure ! " 
 
 " It's quite an unexpected pleasure ! " 
 
 " Indeed, most glad to meet you ! " 
 
 The introductions continued, and presently the room 
 resounded with such phrases as these: 
 
 " I hope we're not terribly late ! . . . New York 
 streets are so crowded ! " 
 
 "Delightful weather, don't you think?" 
 
 " What a charming view ! . . . I dote on views, 
 don't you ? " 
 
 " Have you seen Peleas and Melisande? " 
 
 And Georgie Gwynne, picking her words with diffi- 
 culty, was remarking to Harrigan Blood : 
 
 " You're such a celebrity, Mr. Blood ! . . . I'm tick 
 . . . I'm delighted to know you ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 29 
 
 The Comte de Joncy, overcome by this flood of 
 manners, said to his host: 
 
 " The devil, mon cher Sassoon, they overawe me ! 
 You are sure it is no mistake ? It is not some of your 
 dreadful wives ? " 
 
 "Wait!" said Sassoon, raising a finger. 
 
 Busby, who knew their ways, arrived with a tray 
 of cocktails, scolding them like a stage-manager: 
 
 " Now, girls girls ! Unbend ! Warm up, or His 
 Highness will catch a cold! Come on, Consuelo, 
 you've aired your furs enough ; send them back you 
 give us a chill! This will never do! Now perk up, 
 girls, do perk up! " 
 
 Dore took the cocktail offered, and profiting by the 
 stir, emptied it quickly behind her in the roots of a 
 glowing orange tree. She raised her eyes suddenly 
 to Massingale's. He had detected the movement, and 
 was smiling. She made a quick, half -checked gesture 
 of her arm, imploring his confidence, as, amused, he 
 came to her side. 
 
 " What a charming name, Miss Tennyson," he said, 
 without reference to what he had seen. " Are you 
 related?" 
 
 She understood that he would not betray her. 
 
 " Alfred's a sort of distant cousin," she said with 
 a lisp, affecting a mannerism of the shoulders. " Of 
 course, I haven't kept my full name my full name 
 is Rowena Robsart Tennyson; but that wouldn't do 
 for the stage, would it? Trixie Trixie Tenny- 
 son is chicker, don't you think?" 
 
 "Is what?"
 
 30 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Chicker French, you know ! " 
 
 " Ah, more chic," he said, looking at her steadily 
 with a little lurking mockery in the corners of his 
 eyes. 
 
 " I'm not fooling him/' she said to herself, im- 
 pressed by the steadiness of his judicial look, half 
 inquisitorial, half amused. Nevertheless, she con- 
 tinued with a mincing imitation of Violetta Pax, who 
 could be heard discoursing on art. 
 
 " What charming weather ! Do you like our show ? 
 Have you seen it ? " 
 
 "Yes have you?" he said, with malice in his 
 eyes. 
 
 "What do you mean by that? I'm sure I don't 
 know ! " 
 
 " I understood you came in place of your sister. 
 Did you forget ? " 
 
 She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, 
 knowing the comedy useless, but continuing it. She 
 was easily impressed, especially at a first meeting, 
 and she had a feeling that to be a judge one must know 
 all, see through every subterfuge. 
 
 " 'Course- I've only been in the sextette a couple 
 of nights." 
 
 "'And what is your ambition? Tragedy?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! " she said, with an important seriousness. 
 "I don't think tragedy's in my complexion, do you? 
 I dote on comedy, though; I'd like to be a Maude 
 Adams s-some day." 
 
 " So you are serious? " he said gravely. 
 
 "Oh, much so 'course, I don't know. I haven't
 
 THE SALAMANDER 31 
 
 any prejudices against marriage," she continued, al- 
 lowing her great blue troubling eyes to remain on his. 
 " I sometimes think I'd like to go to London and 
 marry into the English aristocracy." 
 
 He bit his lips to keep from laughing. 
 
 " Society is so narrow here there's more oppor- 
 tunity abroad, don't you think? " 
 
 He did not answer, considering her fixedly, plainly 
 intrigued. 
 
 She moved into the embrasure of a window with 
 a defensive movement. 
 
 "The view's quite wonderful, isn't it?" 
 
 They were on the fifteenth floor, with a clear sweep 
 of the lower city. He moved to her side, looking out 
 gravely, impressed as one who reads beneath the sur- 
 face of things. From the window the spectacle of the 
 city below them irrevocably rooted to the soil, caged in 
 the full tide of labor, gave an exquisite sense of luxury 
 to this banquet among the clouds. To the south a 
 light bank of fog, low and spreading, was eating up 
 the horizon of water and distant shore, magnifying 1 
 the checkered chart of the city as it closed about it. 
 It seemed as if the whole world were there, the world 
 of toil, marching endlessly, regimented into squares, 
 chained to the bitter gods of necessity and the com- 
 monplace. 
 
 " It gives you the true feeling of splendor," he 
 said. " The world does not change. We might be 
 on the Hanging Gardens of Babylon." He continued, 
 his eyes lit up by a flash of imagination that revealed 
 the youth still in his features : " It is Babylon, As-
 
 32 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 syria, Egypt. The Pyramids were raised thus, man 
 in terms of a thousand, harnessed and whipped, while 
 a few looked down and enjoyed." 
 
 She forgot the part she had assumed, keenly re- 
 sponsive. Her mind, still neglected, was not without 
 perceptions, ready to be awakened to imagination. 
 She saw as he saw, feeling more deeply. 
 
 She extended her hand toward the Egyptian hordes 
 beneath them, looking at him curiously. 
 
 "And that interests you?" 
 
 " Both interest me. That and this. Everything 
 is interesting," he said, with a smile that comprehended 
 her. " Especially you and your motive." 
 
 " You know I'm- not one of " she began abruptly. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders good-humo redly, and in 
 his eyes was the same look of delighted malice that 
 had brought him to her. 
 
 " You needn't explain. Your manner was perfect. 
 I quite understand you much better than you be- 
 lieve." 
 
 He moved forward, joining the movement into the 
 dining-room. She followed, watching him covertly, 
 enveloped still by his unusual personality. 
 
 As the chorus girls still persisted in their display 
 of mannered stateliness, the men listened to Harrigan 
 Blood, who had begun to coin ideas. 
 
 " Count, here you have America in a thimble." 
 He elevated his second cocktail, speaking in the slightly 
 raised tone of one who is accustomed to the attention 
 of all listeners. " Your Frenchman takes an after- 
 noon sipping himself into gaiety; your German be-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 33 
 
 gins to sing only when he has drunk up a river of beer ; 
 but your American he's different! What do we 
 do? We've won or we've lost we've got to re- 
 joice or forget it's all the same. We bolt to a bar 
 and cry : ' Tom, throw something into me that'll ex- 
 plode ! ' And he hands us a cocktail ! Here's 
 America: a hundred millions in a generation, a cen- 
 tury's progress in a decade the future to-morrow, 
 
 and a change of mood in a second ! " 
 
 . 
 He ended, swallowing his drink in a gulp. Like 
 
 most mad geniuses of the press, he drank enormously, 
 feeding thus the brain that he punished without mercy. 
 
 Busby, who peddled epigrams, murmured to him- 
 self with a view to future authorship, " A cocktail is 
 an explosion of spirits ; a cocktail . . ." 
 
 The chorus girls, who regarded Harrigan Blood as 
 a sort of demigod who could make a reputation with 
 a stroke of his pen, acclaimed this sally with exag- 
 gerated delight. The party crowded into the dining- 
 room, seeking their places.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 DOR found herself between Judge Massingale 
 and Lindaberry, Harrigan Blood opposite be- 
 tween Georgie Gwynne and Violetta Pax. Sassoon 
 was at the farther end, opposite Lindaberry, with 
 Adele Vickers and Busby to his right, and Paula 
 Stuart and the Comte de Joncy on his left, Consuelo 
 Vincent sharing the noble guest, with Massingale next 
 to her. 
 
 Beside each feminine plate a bouquet of orchids 
 and yellow pansies, daintily blended, was waiting, and 
 from the loosely bound stems the edge of a bank-note 
 showed a slit of indecipherable green. 
 
 Immediately there was a murmur of voices, a quick 
 outstretching of hands, and a sudden careful pinning 
 on to waists, while each glance affected unconscious- 
 ness of what it had detected. Dore did not imitate 
 the others. Her eye, too, had immediately caught the 
 disclosed corner. She contrived, while folding her 
 gloves, to turn the bouquet slightly, so that no trace 
 of what it contained showed. Then, when the op- 
 portunity came, she examined the faces of the men. 
 So quickly had the flowers been transferred to the 
 bodices that the male portion remained in ignorance. 
 Massingale was too close to her to be sure of. Had 
 his quick eye detected what the others had missed? 
 
 34
 
 THE SALAMANDER 35 
 
 To refuse the bouquet meant to bring down on her 
 head a torrent of explanations ; ignorance were better. 
 
 At this moment there was a hollow pause. The 
 caviar had just been served, and the chorus girls, 
 watching for a precedent, were in a quandary be- 
 tween a fork which inclined to a knife, and a fork 
 tHat was a tortured spoon. But Georgie Gwynne, too 
 long repressed, exclaimed : 
 
 " Oh, hell ! Buzzy, tell us the club." 
 
 This remark, and the roar with which is was greeted, 
 dispelled at once the gloom that had settled about the 
 Royal Observer. The chorus girls, unbending, be- 
 gan to talk American all at once, chattering, gestur- 
 ing. Dore profited by the moment to affix the bouquet 
 among the orchids she already wore. The success of 
 Georgie Gwynne's ice-breaking was such that the 
 Comte de Joncy, charmed by such naturalness, wished 
 to invite her to his side ; but, amid protests, it was de- 
 cided, on a happy motion of Busby's, that the guests 
 should rotate after each course. 
 
 " Sorry it's so," said Massingale, turning; " I shall 
 lose you ! " 
 
 " Oh, now you know I'm a counterfeit," Dodo said 
 maliciously, " I shall spoil your fun. Never mind ; I 
 promise to go early ! " 
 
 " Who are you? " he said, by way of answer. 
 
 " Trixie Tennyson ! " 
 
 " I've half a mind to denounce you ! " 
 
 " Oh, Your Honor, you wouldn't do that ! " 
 
 " So you won't tell me who you are? " 
 
 " It'll be so much more fun for you to find out ! "
 
 36 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 She listened to him with her head set a little to one 
 side. She rarely gave the full of her face, keeping 
 always about her a subtle touch of evasion. 
 
 " I know her kind well," he had said to himself. 
 But he continued to watch her intently, interested in 
 that innate sense of the shades of coquetry she dis- 
 played in the lingering slanted glances, and the eerie 
 smile which gathered from the malicious corners of 
 her eyes, slipping down the curved cheek to play a 
 moment about her lips. 
 
 "Why did you come?" he said, wishing that she 
 would turn toward him. 
 
 "Curiosity!" 
 
 "Precipices?" 
 
 She turned to him, genuine surprise in the blue 
 clouded eyes, her rosy lips parted in amazement. 
 
 " How did you know ? " 
 
 "It wasn't difficult!" 
 
 " You're uncanny ! " 
 
 His sense of divination had so startled her that 
 she turned from him a moment, wondering what at- 
 titude to assume. While feigning to listen to the 
 declaiming of Harrigan Blood, she took every op- 
 portunity to study him. Massingale, scarcely forty, 
 had an intellectual aristocracy about him that lay in 
 the impersonality of his amused study of others. Yet 
 in this scrutiny there was no accent of criticism. His 
 lips were relaxed in a tolerant humor, and this smile 
 puzzled her. Was he also of this company who sought 
 amusement in a descent to other levels, or was he 
 simply an observer, a man who had ended a phase of

 
 THE SALAMANDER 37 
 
 life, but who still delighted in the contemplation of 
 the ridiculous, the grotesque and the absurdity of 
 these petty contests of wits? She was aware that he 
 had attacked her imagination in a way no man had 
 tried before, and this presumption awoke an instant 
 spirit of resistance. She stole a glance from time to 
 time in the mirror, but she avoided opportunities for 
 conversation. 
 
 From the farther end of the table she beheld the 
 guest of the day radiating happiness under a storm 
 of questions- from the chorus girls : 
 
 " Perfectly horrid of you to call yourself count ! " 
 
 " Count, lord, I've got a string of 'em ! " 
 
 " Barons;" 
 
 " Dukes, too. I know Duke of What's-His-Name 
 Biscay. He's a nice boy ! Do you know him? " 
 
 And Georgie Gwynne, flushed with her first success, 
 said to Harrigan Blood, in a permeating aside : 
 
 "When I get to His Nibs, watch what I'll hand 
 him!" 
 
 But Harrigan Blood, absorbed in an idea, answered 
 her: 
 
 " Be quiet now, Georgie gorge yourself ! " 
 
 "Composing an editorial on luxury, Harrigan?" 
 said Lindaberry, speaking for the first time. 
 
 Harrigan Blood admitted the patness of the guess 
 with a wave of his hand, leaning heavily on the table 
 with his elbows. He had always an air of being in 
 his shirt-sleeves. 
 
 " See the Free Press to-morrow," he said, moving 
 his large hand over his face and frowning spasmod-
 
 38 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 ically. His eye ran quickly over the menu, calculat- 
 ing the cost per plate, the value of the rare wines, the 
 decorations, the presents and the tips. " Two thou- 
 sand dollars at the least four thousand dinners be- 
 low Fourteenth Street, five years abroad for a genius 
 who is stifling, twenty thousand tired laborers to a 
 moving-picture show. And with what we turn over 
 with our fork and regret, the waste that will be thrown 
 away, a family could live a year ! This is civilization 
 and Christianity ! " 
 
 " Appetite good, Harrigan ? " said Lindaberry, with 
 an impertinence that few would have ventured. 
 
 " Better than yours," said Blood impatiently. 
 " Ideas and personalities have no connection. Ends 
 are one thing, instruments another. Who was the 
 greatest of the disciples? St. Paul. He had ex- 
 perienced I Shakespeare Tolstoy. The caviar is 
 delicious ! " 
 
 In his attitude he felt no hypocrisy. He looked 
 upon himself as a machine, to be fed and to be kept 
 in order by sensations experiences : a privileged na- 
 ture dedicated passionately to ideal ends. For the 
 rest, his contempt for mankind in the present was 
 profound. He had conquered success early, but he 
 retained an abiding bitterness against the world which 
 had misunderstood him and forced him a short period 
 to wait. 
 
 " And this is Harrigan Blood ! " Dore thought, 
 wondering. Another day flashed before her two 
 years old when, just arrived, a despairing claimant, 
 she had pleaded in vain for opportunity in the great
 
 THE SALAMANDER 39 
 
 soul-crushing offices of the Free Press. The sport of 
 fate had flung her a chance, and watching Harrigan 
 Blood from the malicious corners of her busy eyes, 
 she planned her revenge. 
 
 Lindaberry had not as yet addressed a single word 
 to her. He had gradually come out of the stolid dull 
 intensity that had lain on him with the weight of 
 last night's dissipation, but one felt in the awakening 
 vivacity of his eye, the impatient opening and shutting 
 of his hand, the quick smile that followed each out- 
 burst of laughter, a struggle to reach the extreme 
 of gaiety which such a company brought him to relieve 
 him from that depression which closed over him when 
 condemned to be alone. 
 
 For her part, she had scarcely noticed him having 
 a horror of men who drank. At this moment a butler, 
 under orders from Busby, placed before him a bottle 
 of champagne for his special use. He turned cour- 
 teously but impersonally, without that masculine im- 
 pertinence in the eye which is still a compliment. 
 
 " May I freshen up your glass ? " 
 
 " Thank you, no ! " she said icily. " I'm afraid I 
 don't appreciate your special brand of conversation ! " 
 
 He looked at her, startled her meaning gradually 
 dawning on him. But, before he could reply, Busby 
 had risen, sounding his knife against his plate. 
 
 " Next course, ladies will please chasse ! Gentlemen, 
 make sure of your jewelry! " 
 
 Dore rose, and, as she did so, addressing the butler 
 who drew out her chair, said : 
 
 " In order that Mr, Lindaberry may feel quite at
 
 40 
 
 home, do please place a bottle on each side of 
 him!" 
 
 She made him an abrupt mocking bow, and went 
 to her place past Massingale, next to the Comte de 
 Joncy, while Lindaberry, flushing, was left as best he 
 could to face the laughter and clapping of hands that 
 greeted her sally. 
 
 The Comte de Joncy had risen courteously, study- 
 ing her keenly from his pocketed, watery blue eyes, 
 seating her with marked ceremony, too keen an ama- 
 teur of the sex not to feel a difference in her. 
 
 "Bravo!" he said, laughing, and in a confidential 
 tone : " Madame de Stae'l could not have answered 
 better!" 
 
 The allusion was not in her ken, but she felt the 
 compliment. 
 
 "Are you what? Wolf in sheep's clothing, or 
 sheep " 
 
 " Beware ! " she said maliciously, converting a fork 
 into a weapon of attack. " I am a desperate adven- 
 turess who has taken this way to meet Your High- 
 ness!" 
 
 " If it were only true! " he said, looking questions. 
 
 "Why not?" The game amused her, and besides, 
 something perversely incited her to recklessness. 
 Massingale was on the other side of her Massin- 
 gale, who, after the impudence of having compre- 
 hended her, treated her with only tepid interest. 
 " Where shall I follow you ? Paris or Dresden ? " 
 
 He stared at her with squinting eyes, not quite de- 
 ceived, not quite convinced. At the end he laughed,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 41 
 
 " Pretty good almost you fool me ! " 
 
 "You don't believe me?" she said, raising her 
 eyes a moment to his. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, your eyes have a million in each of 
 them ! " he said, after a moment, but not quite so 
 calmly. " Will you give me your address ? " 
 
 " Why not? " she said, opening her hands in a ges- 
 ture of surprise. 
 
 " I will come! " he said, yet not entirely the dupe of 
 her game. 
 
 " Poor Count ! " she said, with a quick change of 
 manner. " You don't know what a dangerous animal 
 we have here. Beware ! " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " The great American teaser ! " she said, laughing. 
 
 " Teaser teaser ! What is that ? " 
 
 She entered into an elaborate explanation, glancing 
 into the mirror, striving from there to catch Massin- 
 gale's look. 
 
 " I say, angels ! " said Buzzy, bubbling over with 
 mischief. " I've got an idea ! " 
 
 " Buzzy has an idea ! " 
 
 "Good for Buzzy!" 
 
 " We want to amuse the Count, don't we ? " said 
 Busby artfully. 
 
 "Sure! . . ." 
 
 "You bet! . . ." 
 
 " Well, then, let's tell our real names ! " 
 
 Violetta Pax gave a scream of horror and retired 
 blushing under her napkin at the storm of laughter 
 her scream of confession had aroused.
 
 42 
 
 "Real name's Lou Burgstadter ! " said Consuelo 
 Vincent in a whisper to De Joncy, who had forgot 
 her. 
 
 Violetta Pax was on her feet in an instant. 
 
 " Consuelo Vincent, I like your nerve ! . . . Con- 
 suelo, indeed ! Cassie Hagan ! " she cried furiously. 
 " Yes, and Carrie Slater, too, needn't put on 
 airs!" 
 
 The rest was lost in an uproar ; the chorus girls were 
 on their feet, protesting vigorously, all chattering at 
 once, the men applauding and fomenting the tumult, 
 Busby secretly enjoying the mischief he had exploded, 
 running from one to the other, pleading, provoking, 
 adding fuel to the burning. 
 
 " Ladies ! . . . Ladies ! Remember there are gen- 
 tlemen present! . . . Georgie, Violetta's giving you 
 away! . . . Girls! Girls! Remember His Highness! 
 . . . Paula, dear, you ought to hear what Georgie said 
 of you! Awful . . . awful . . . Now, dearies, be- 
 have ! . . . remember your manners ! " 
 
 At the end of a moment, overcome with laughter, he 
 capsized on a sofa in weak hysterics. Blood ex- 
 claimed that Busby had a fit, and thus procured a di- 
 version which restored calm. Nevertheless, the storm 
 had been so sudden that the wreckage was strewn 
 about the room; Busby gathered them together again, 
 conciliated every one and brought them back to their 
 seats. 
 
 Dore was excited by this outburst. At last the 
 party promised something to her curiosity. She 
 waited eagerly, her eyes dancing, her fingers thrum-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 43 
 
 ming on the cloth, curious to see these men, of whom 
 she had heard so much, unmask. 
 
 While continuing her banter with De Joncy, she had 
 turned her attention to Sassoon, who, in the midst of 
 the hilarity, preserved the fatigue and listlessness of 
 his first appearance, a smile more contemptuous than 
 amused lurking about the long oriental nose and 
 burnt-out eyes without abiding quite anywhere. He 
 paid no attention to the girls at either side, peering 
 restlessly at those farther away, dissatisfied, unamused. 
 
 His reputation was of the worst, his name bandied 
 about in big places and in small ; nor, as is usually the 
 case, did gossip bear unmerited reproaches. Neither 
 a fool, as most believed, nor of originating imagina- 
 tion, as a few credited who witnessed from the inside 
 the shrewd and infallible success of his colossal 
 schemes, Sassoon at bottom was a prey to an obsession 
 that stung him like a gadfly to restless seeking, eter- 
 nally tormented by the fever of the hunter, eternally 
 disillusioned. For thirty years, following the ex- 
 igencies of a maladive heredity, he had raked the city 
 with his craving eye, always alert, always disappointed, 
 running into dark side streets, ringing obscure bells, 
 pursuing a shadow that had awakened a spark of 
 hope. And at the end it was always the same emp- 
 tiness! To-day he sat moodily, fiercely resentful at 
 a fresh deception. 
 
 A certain disdainful defiance, a trick of Violetta 
 Pax, fleeing, bacchante-like, in the sextette, had stirred 
 in him a flash of expectancy, a hungering hope, which 
 had died in hollowness now that she was at his side,
 
 44 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 unresisting, too ready. So he sat, brooding, heavy- 
 lidded, already turning to other fugitive forms that 
 he might follow in a vague impulse of all the 
 millions in the city the one most enslaved. When, in 
 her turn, Dore came to take her place beside him, 
 after the first listless acknowledgment he spoke no 
 word to her. She responded by turning her back to 
 him at once, with a complete ignoring. This atti- 
 tude, so different from the challenging eyes of the 
 others, struck him he who craved opposition, re- 
 sistance. All at once, as she was leaving him to take 
 her place between Busby and Harrigan Blood, he 
 said, his soft hand on her arm, in his low, rather 
 melodious feminine voice: 
 
 " You haven't paid much attention to me, pretty 
 thing!" 
 
 " Your own fault, Pasha ! " she said impertinently. 
 " Men run after me ! " 
 
 And she was aware that his eye, dead as a cold 
 lantern, followed her now, running over her neck 
 and shoulders, aroused as from its lethargy. Satis- 
 fied that her instinct had not failed, she took her seat. 
 Then, all at once, she felt a new annoyance: Massin- 
 gale, the observer, was smiling to himself. 
 
 The hilarity began to freshen. Consuelo Vincent, 
 who had magnificent hair, was heard exclaiming: 
 
 " I say, girls! we're stiff as a bunch of undertakers. 
 Let's slip our roofs ! " 
 
 Amid general acclaim, the top-lofty, overburdened 
 hats were consigned to a butler. Every one began 
 to chatter on a higher key, across the constant rise
 
 THE SALAMANDER 45 
 
 of laughter. Georgia Gwynne, installed by the Royal 
 Observer, saucy and unabashed, was saying: 
 
 " Well, Kink, how do you like us?" 
 
 In another moment the Comte de Joncy, sublimely 
 content, was being initiated into the art of eating 
 brandied cherries from the ripe lips of Violetta Pax 
 and Georgie Gwynne. 
 
 From the moment Dore had taken off her toque, 
 Sassoon and Harrigan Blood had not ceased to stare 
 at her. 
 
 " A hat is not becoming to me," she said to Har- 
 rigan Blood, and added : " Besides, I have nothing to 
 conceal." 
 
 Amid the pyramided and confectioned head-dresses, 
 the simplicity of her own, playing about her forehead 
 like a golden cloud, stood out. For the first time, 
 her youth and naturalness appeared, depending on no 
 artifice. 
 
 Harrigan Blood did not go to what attracted him 
 by four ways, or around a hill. 
 
 " You don't belong to this crowd," he said point- 
 blank. " Don't lie to me! What are you? " 
 
 "The story of my life?" she said. "It's getting 
 to the time, isn't it?" 
 
 " You know what I mean," he said roughly. 
 " People don't often interest me. You do ! I've been 
 watching you. Do you want backing?" 
 
 She was surprised genuinely so. She had felt 
 that Blood was different too powerful, too merci- 
 less, to be caught as other men were caught. She 
 did not look up at him, as others would have, but
 
 46 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 remained smiling down at the cloth, running her mis- 
 chievous fingers through the low dish of yellow 
 pansies before her. And, with the same averted look, 
 which brought her a complete understanding of the 
 impetuousness of his attack, she felt Sassoon's awak- 
 ened stare and the scrutiny of Judge Massingale, who, 
 while he pretended to talk to Paula Stuart, was listen- 
 ing with a concentrated interest. She was pleased, 
 quite satisfied with herself. Only Lindaberry re- 
 mained. 
 
 "You are very impulsive, aren't you?" she said 
 slowly. 
 
 "On the stage? A beginner?" 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " Come to me at my office, any afternoon, after 
 five." And he added, without lowering his voice: 
 " If you're after a career, don't waste your time on 
 this sort. I can put you in a day where you want." 
 
 She rose to take her seat on his right, next to 
 Lindaberry. 
 
 " Will you come? " he said, detaining her. 
 
 "Why not?" she said, lifting her eyes, with a 
 little affectation of surprise at so simple a question. 
 
 During her progress about the table she had kept 
 Lindaberry in mind, with a lurking sense of antag- 
 onism, a desire to return to the attack, to punish him 
 further. A certain grace that he had, which appealed 
 to her instinct, the quality of instinctive elegance, only 
 increased her resentment. At the bottom, the in- 
 tensity of this resentment surprised her without her 
 being able to analyze it.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 47 
 
 He had risen with a bow that was neither exag- 
 gerated nor curt. There was undeniable power in his 
 face, boyish and weak as it was in its unrestraint, 
 like a flame spurting fiercely on a trembling wick. 
 He brought to men a little sense of fear never to 
 women. To-day this intensity seemed clouded, not 
 fully awake as if there were still dinning in his ears 
 the echoes of the night before. The dullest observer, 
 looking on his face, would have seen where he was 
 riding. In his own club (where he was adored) bets 
 were up that he would not last the year. 
 
 Presently he leaned toward her and said, pro- 
 tected by the shrieks of laughter that surrounded De 
 Joncy : 
 
 " Don't you think you were in the wrong? What 
 right had you to come here? " 
 
 She understood that Busby had betrayed her to 
 him and to Harrigan Blood. 
 
 "Even if I were a " she gave a glance up the 
 table, " you should make a difference between a woman 
 and a bottle!" 
 
 ''' You are quite right," he said, after a moment. 
 " Will you accept my apologies ? I am seldom dis- 
 courteous to a woman never intentionally." 
 
 She looked at him, and saw with what an effort he 
 spoke, his brain on fire, yet making no mistake in the 
 precision of his words. She nodded, and turned 
 again to Harrigan Blood, all her nature aroused to 
 opposition at this weakness in such a man. Yet or- 
 dinarily her sympathies were quick. 
 
 " You are too hard on him," said Harrigan Blood,
 
 48 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 who had listened. " It's gone too far ; he can't help 
 it. He's got his coffin strapped to his back." 
 
 "Why doesn't some one help him?" she said ir- 
 ritably. 
 
 Blood shrugged his shoulders, answering with the 
 superiority of the self-made man before the misfor- 
 tune of the friend who has thrown everything away: 
 
 " Help him ? There's your feminism again ! The 
 world's turned crazy on sentimentalized charity!' 
 Charity is nothing but a confession of failure! Build 
 up! Let derelicts go! Save him? For what? In 
 New York? We are too busy. The best that can be 
 said is, he's drinking himself to death like a gentle- 
 man doing it royally ! His self-control's a miracle 
 some day there'll be an explosion! If you knew 
 his history " 
 
 "What is his story?" 
 
 As Blood was about to begin it, he was interrupted 
 by a general pushing back of chairs. Busby, at the 
 piano, flung out the chords of the sextette that had 
 made a mediocre opera famous. 
 
 Half the party crowded, laughing and bantering, 
 to render the chorus, the Comte de Joncy insisting 
 on being taught the latest curious American dance. 
 Tenafly entered to see to the clearing of the room. 
 
 He was the type of the valet ennobled, a mask of 
 incomparable vacuity, a secret smile that missed noth- 
 ing, internal rather than outward, yet still chained to 
 the servant's habit of picking up his feet. 
 
 Sassoon summoned him with a nod which Tenafly 
 perceived instantly across the room.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 49 
 
 " The little girl in yellow who is she ? " 
 
 The eye of the restaurateur passed vaguely over 
 the company, but the instant sufficed to photograph 
 each detail. 
 
 " She's new," he said, without moving his lips. 
 
 "She's not of the sextette?" 
 
 Tenafly shook his head. 
 
 " She's dined here below I've seen her ! " 
 
 " Know her name? " 
 
 Tenafly searched the pigeonholes of his memory. 
 
 " I don't know her." 
 
 " Find out what you can soon ! " 
 
 "I will, sir!" 
 
 He spoke a moment in low tones with the master, 
 who had no evasions with him. At the end Sassoon 
 said impatiently: 
 
 " Can't be bothered ... see her for me and get a 
 receipt." 
 
 Every one wished to dance, whirling and bumping, 
 none too restrained in their movements, the Royal Ob- 
 server awkwardly enthusiastic, enjoying himself im- 
 moderately. Dore, a little apart, Harrigan Blood at her 
 side, watched with eyes keen with curiosity. Busby, 
 De Joncy, Lindaberry amused themselves hugely, 
 caricaturing the eccentricities of the dance, their arms 
 about their partners, clinging, bacchanalian, in their 
 movements. Dore followed Lindaberry, frowning, 
 feeling a blast of anger that set her sensitive little 
 nostrils to quivering with scorn. The feeling was un- 
 reasonable. She did not know why he should disturb 
 her more than another, and yet he did. He seemed
 
 '50 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 i 
 
 so incongruous there; she could not associate his re- 
 finement, his courtesy, with Georgie Gwynne, who held 
 him pressed in her arms, her head thrown back, her 
 throat bared, laughing provokingly. She had come 
 to see behind the scenes, and yet this one roused her 
 fury. Besides, there was in his attitude a scornful 
 note a contemptuous valuation of the woman, of 
 women in general, she felt, as if he were thus pro- 
 claiming: "See, this is all they are worth!" 
 
 She began to glance at the door, counting the 
 minutes. Judge Massingale came to her side. 
 
 "Dance?" 
 
 " I turned my ankle this morning." 
 
 "You don't want to!" 
 
 "No!" 
 
 He began to dance with Adele Vickers, but not as 
 the others, not with the same immoderate abandon. 
 She noted this swiftly. 
 
 At last, in a pause between the dances, to Dore's 
 relief, a footman, entering, announced : 
 
 " Miss Baxter's car is waiting." 
 
 It was an effect she had carefully planned, taking 
 a full half -hour to lead Stacey Van Loan to an inno- 
 cent participation. A group came up, protesting, ac- 
 claiming the discovery of her name as she had 
 wished. 
 
 "Oho! Miss Baxter, is it?" 
 
 " We won't let you go ! " 
 
 "The fun's just beginning!" 
 
 "My chauffeur can wait!" said Dore superbly, 
 perceiving the danger of an open retreat before this
 
 THE SALAMANDER '51 
 
 over-excited group. Her curiosity was satisfied. 
 She began to foresee what she did not wish to wit- 
 ness, ugliness appearing from behind the carnival mask 
 of laughter. She began to glance apprehensively at 
 Harrigan Blood, who clung to her side, wondering 
 how she could elude him. Then, as the group of prot- 
 estants broke up, Sassoon, advancing deliberately, in 
 that silken effeminate voice that expected no refusal, 
 said abruptly : " Miss Baxter, where do you live ? " 
 
 She was on the point of an indignant answer, but 
 suddenly checked herself. She gave the address, but 
 in a sharp muffled tone, boiling with anger within, 
 with a quick resolve to punish him later. 
 
 " When are you in ? " 
 
 Before she could answer, Harrigan Blood pushed 
 forward, determined and insolent. 
 
 " Too late, Sassoon, my boy ; nothing here for 
 you!" 
 
 " I fail to understand you," said Sassoon. 
 
 " Don't you? Well, I'll make it plainer! " 
 
 " You'll kindly not interfere." 
 
 " And I'll thank you not to trespass ! " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Don't trespass ! " 
 
 Sassoon responded angrily ; Harrigan Blood retorted 
 with equal heat. In a moment the room was in an 
 uproar. 
 
 Dore seized the confusion of the hubbub to slip from 
 the group which rushed in to separate these two 
 men whom a glance from a little Salamander had 
 turned back into the raw.
 
 52 
 
 She went quickly, frightened by the sounds of anger 
 and the increasing uproar, flung into her furs, and 
 stole toward the door. 
 
 All at once it opened before her, and in the hall 
 was Lindaberry, roguishly ambushed. 
 
 " No, no not so fast ! " he cried. 
 
 He flung out his arm, barring the way. For a 
 moment she was frightened, seeing what was in his 
 eyes, hearing the tumult in the salon behind. Then, 
 without drawing back, she raised her hand gently, 
 and put his arm away. 
 
 " Please, Mr. Lindaberry, protect me ! I need it ! 
 I ought not to be here." 
 
 "What?" he said, staring at her. 
 
 " I'm a crazy little fool ! " she said frantically. 
 " Help me to get away ! " 
 
 " Crazy little child ! " he said, after staring a mo- 
 ment as if suddenly recognizing her. " Get away, 
 then quickly ! " 
 
 She felt no more resentment, only a great pity, such 
 as one feels before a magnificent ruin. She wished to 
 stop to speak to him but she was afraid. 
 
 " Thank you," she said, with a look that appealed 
 to him not to judge her. " I am crazy out of my 
 mind ! Come and see me do ! "
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE faithful Stacey was below, lounging at the 
 door of the grill-room, as she came tripping 
 down, the sensation of escape sparkling on her deli- 
 cate features. She was so delighted at the effect he 
 had achieved for her that she gave him an affectionate 
 squeeze of the arm. 
 
 " Stacey, you're a darling! When the footman an- 
 nounced ' Miss Baxter's car ' you could have heard a 
 pin drop among the squillionairesses ! " 
 
 Stacey had been told, and dutifully believed, that 
 the luncheon was a heavy affair, very formal, very 
 correct. 
 
 "I say, you didn't bore yourself, did you?" he 
 said, noticing the excitement still on her cheeks. 
 
 "No, no!" 
 
 "Fifth Avenue, or Broadway?" 
 
 " Fifth first." 
 
 "Bundle up; it's turning cold!" 
 
 The next moment the car had found a wedge in 
 the avenue, and Stacey, solicitous, relapsed into grati- 
 fying silence. 
 
 She was all aquiver with excitement. Her little 
 feet, exhilarated by the memories of music, continued 
 tapping against the floor, and had Stacey turned he 
 would have been surprised at the mischievous, gay 
 
 53
 
 54 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 little smile that constantly rippled and broke about 
 her lips. Indeed, she was delighted with her suc- 
 cess, with the discord she had flung between Sassoon 
 and Harrigan Blood. She could scarcely believe that 
 it could be true. 
 
 " What ! I, little Dodo, have done that ! " she said, 
 addressing herself caressingly, overjoyed at the idea 
 of two men of such power descending to a quarrel 
 over a little imp like herself. 
 
 She had no illusions about these flesh hunters. If 
 she had given Sassoon her address instead of hotly 
 refusing, it was from a swift vindictive resolve to pun- 
 ish him unmercifully, to entice him into fruitless alleys, 
 to entangle and mock him, with an imperative desire to 
 match her wits against his power, and teach him re- 
 spect through discomfiture and humiliation. Sassoon 
 did not impress her with any sense of danger. She 
 rather scoffed at him, remembering his silken voice, 
 the slight feminine touch of his hand, the haunted 
 dreamy discontent in his heavy eyes. 
 
 Harrigan Blood was different. In her profound 
 education of a Salamander, she knew his type, too: 
 the man without preliminaries, who put abrupt ques- 
 tions, brushing aside the artifices and subtleties that 
 arrest others. She would make no mistake with hint 
 knowing just how little to venture. And yet, al- 
 ways prepared, she might try her fingers across such 
 hungry flames. Strangely enough, she did not re- 
 sent Harrigan Blood as she did Sassoon; for men 
 of force she made many allowances. 
 
 She thought of Lindaberry and Judge Massingale:
 
 "No, no, not so fast!"
 
 THE SALAMANDER 55 
 
 of Lindaberry rapidly, with a beginning of pity, but 
 still inflamed with an irritation at this magnificent 
 spectacle of a man going to destruction so purpose- 
 lessly. He, of all, had been the most indifferent, too 
 absorbed to lift his eyes and study what sat by his 
 side. She did not know all the reasons why he so 
 antagonized her, nor whence these reasons came . . . 
 yet the feeling persisted, already mingled with a de- 
 sire to know what was the history that Harrigan Blood 
 had started to tell. Perhaps, after all, there may have 
 been a tragic love-affair. She reflected on this idea, 
 and it seemed to her that if it were so, then in his pres- 
 ent madness there might be something noble . . . 
 magnificent. 
 
 " How stupid a mam is to drink ! " she said angrily. 
 
 " Eh? What's that, Dodo? " said Stacey. 
 
 She perceived that, in her absorption, she had 
 spoken half aloud. 
 
 " Go down Forty-second and run up Broadway ! " 
 she said hastily. 
 
 Massingale she could not place. She comprehended 
 the others, even the Comte de Joncy, whom she had 
 left with a feeling of defrauded expectation. But 
 Massingale she did not comprehend, nor did she see 
 him quite clearly. Why was he there? To observe 
 simply, with that tolerant baffling smile of his ? What 
 did he want in life? Of her? He had been inter- 
 ested; he had even tried to arouse her own curiosity. 
 She was certain that the effort had been conscious. 
 Then there had come a change a quiet defensive 
 turn to impersonality. Tactics, or what?
 
 $6 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 What impression had she left? Would he call, or 
 pass on? She did not understand him at all; yet he 
 excited her strangely. She had a feeling that he 
 would be too strong for her. She had felt in him, 
 each time his glance lay in hers, the reading eye that 
 saw through her, knew beforehand what was turning 
 in her runaway imagination, and that before him her 
 tricks would not avail. 
 
 Then she ceased to remember individuals, lost in 
 a confused, satisfied feeling of an experience. It 
 seemed to her as if she had taken a great step that 
 opportunity had strangely served her, that she had 
 at last entered a world which was worthy of her 
 curiosity. 
 
 She had met few real men. She had played with 
 idlers, boys of twenty or boys of forty, interested in 
 nothing but an indolent floating voyage through life. 
 For the first time, she had come into contact with a 
 new type, felt the shock of masculine vitality. What- 
 ever their cynical ideas of conduct, she felt a difference 
 here. They were men of power, with an object, who 
 did not fill their days with trifling, but who sought 
 pleasure to fling off for a moment the obsession of 
 ambitions, to relax from the tyranny of effort, or to 
 win back a new strength in a moment of discourage- 
 ment. Perhaps if she continued her career she might 
 turn them into friends loyal friends. It would be 
 difficult but very useful. The men she met usually, 
 at first, misunderstood her. 
 
 "Perhaps one of them will change my whole life!
 
 THE SALAMANDER 57 
 
 Why not? I have a feeling " she said solemnly to 
 herself, nodding and biting her little under lip. 
 
 The truth was, she felt the same after every en- 
 counter, dramatizing each man, and flinging herself 
 romantically on a sea of her imagining. But to-day 
 it was a little different. The feeling was more pro- 
 found, calmer, more penetrating. She felt, indeed, 
 under the influence of a new emotion, a restlessness 
 in the air, an unease in the crowded streets. 
 
 Since morning, the glowing warmth of the last 
 summery stillness had slipped away unperceived. 
 The wind in an hour had gone round to the north, and 
 from each whipping banner threaded against the sky 
 one felt the whistling onrush of winter. In the air 
 there was something suspended, a melancholy resound- 
 ing profoundly, penetrating the soul of the multitude. 
 The gray sluggish currents in the thoroughfare quick- 
 ened, stirring more restlessly, apprehensive, caught 
 unawares. Little gusts of wind, scouts heralding the 
 chill battalions piling up on the horizon, drove through 
 the city clefts, sporting stray bits of paper to the roof- 
 tops, in turbulent dusty, swooping flight, uncovering 
 heads and rolling hats like saucers down the blinded 
 streets. Then suddenly the gusts flattened out. A 
 stillness succeeded, but grim, permeating, monstrous; 
 and above the winter continued to advance. 
 
 She felt something in all this something ominous, 
 prophetic, vaguely troubling, and being troubled, 
 sought to put it from her. She began to dramatize 
 another mood. About her she felt the city she adored :
 
 58 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 the restaurants, the theaters, the great hotels, the 
 rocket-rise of the white Times building, towering like 
 a pillar of salt in accursed Sodom. But her mind did 
 not penetrate to ugliness. The febrile activity, the 
 glistening surface of pleasure, the sensation of easy 
 luxurious flight awoke in her the intoxication of en- 
 joyment. She adored it, this city whom so many 
 curse, whose luxuries and pleasures opened so facilely 
 to her nod, whose conquest had borne so little diffi- 
 culty. 
 
 She forgot the unease that lay in the air at the sight 
 of the feverish restaurants where so often she had 
 dipped in for adventure of the afternoon. The sight 
 of the theaters, even, with their cold white globes 
 above the outpouring matinee crowds, brought an im- 
 patience for the garlanded night, when elegant shadows 
 would come, slipping into flaming portals, amid the 
 flash of ankles, the scent of perfume, glances of women 
 challenging the envy of the crowd. 
 
 The multitude churned about her, roaring down into 
 the confusion of many currents : the multitude the 
 others. whom she felt so distant, so far below her. 
 They were there, white of face, troubled, frowning, 
 harassed, swelling onward to clamoring tasks, spying 
 her with thousand-eyed envy; and everywhere dart- 
 ing in and out, dodging the gray contact of the mass, 
 alert, light, skimming on like sea-gulls trailing their 
 wings across the chafing ocean, the luxurious women 
 of the city sped in rolling careless flight. She felt 
 herself one of them, admiring and admired, glancing 
 eagerly into tonneaus bright with laughter and fashion,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 59 
 
 deliciously registering the sudden analytical stare of 
 women, or the disloyal tribute boldly telegraphed of 
 men. 
 
 She had lunched with Sassoon, De Joncy, Massin- 
 gale. She was a part of all this of the Brahmin 
 caste; and her little body rocking to the swooping 
 turns, deliciously cradled, her eyes half closed, her 
 nostrils drawing in this frantic air as if it were the 
 breath of an enchanting perfume, she let her imagina- 
 tion go : already there by right, married to Massingale 
 or Lindaberry she saw not which quite clearly. 
 Nor did it matter. Only she herself mattered. 
 
 " Riverside or park, Dodo ? " 
 
 " Through the park," she said ; and roused from 
 her castle-building, she laughed at herself with a toler- 
 ant amused confusion. 
 
 " Good spirits, eh ? " 
 
 "So-so!" 
 
 In the park there were fewer automobiles. She 
 no longer had the feeling of the crowd pressing about 
 her, claiming her for its own. There were no res- 
 taurants or climbing fagades. There was the earth, 
 bare, shivering, and the sky filled with the invader. 
 
 She had a horror of change, and suffered with a 
 profound and uncomprehended trouble when, each 
 year, she saw summer go into the mystery of winter, 
 and again when came the awakening miracle. Yes- 
 terday, when she had passed, the splendor of the trees, 
 it is true, lay shorn upon the ground; but the earth 
 was warm, pleasant, with a fragrant odor, the air 
 soft and the evening descended in a glow. Now
 
 60 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 there was a difference. Over all was the dread sense 
 of change. Each tree stood alone, aghast, against 
 the sky, the ground bleak, bare, the leaves wandering 
 with a little moaning, driven restlessness. Even 
 against the gray banks piling up against the north 
 there was something vacant and horribly endless. 
 From tree, sky and empty earth a spirit had suddenly 
 withdrawn, and all this change had come within an 
 hour, in a twinkling without warning. 
 
 Now she could no longer put it from her, this re- 
 sistless verity that laid its chill fingers across her heart. 
 It was not of the change in nature she thought no ; 
 but of that specter which some day, inexorably, would 
 rise from a distant horizon, even as the wind in an 
 hour goes round to the north and winter rushes in. 
 She was twenty-two and she had a horror of this 
 thief, who came soft-footed and unreal, to steal the 
 meager years. 
 
 She stiffened suddenly, clutching her stole to her 
 throat. 
 
 "Too cold?" 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " I've got a coat for you." 
 
 "No, -go back!" 
 
 "Already?" 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "Tea?" 
 
 "No! Go back!" 
 
 She closed her eyes, not to see, but the thing was 
 there, everywhere, in the air that came to her, in the 
 sad tiny sounds that rose about them. Yes, she her-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 61 
 
 self would change inexorably, as all things filled their 
 appointed time. What she had was given but for a 
 day all her fragile armament was but for a day. 
 Not much longer could she go blithely along the sum- 
 mery paths of summer. She thought of Winona 
 Horning, who had played too long. She thought of 
 thirty as a sort of sepulcher, an end of all things! 
 She felt something new impelling her on a haste 
 and a warning. 
 
 " It can't go on always ! " she said to herself, in her 
 turn using the very words that Winona had uttered. 
 " Not much longer. A year, only a year, then I must 
 make up my mind ! " 
 
 "Blue, Dodo?" said Stacey. 
 
 "Horribly!" 
 
 The word seemed so incongruously ridiculous, after 
 what she had felt, that she burst into exaggerating 
 laughter. 
 
 " Going to change your mind ? " 
 
 " No, no ! I'm out of sorts a cold ! Get me 
 back!" 
 
 They reentered the city as the first owlish lights 
 were peeping out, futile, brave little rebels against 
 the spreading night. Below, high in the air, suspended 
 above the ghostly town whose sides had faded, the 
 great illumined eye of the Metropolitan tower shone 
 forth. Then all at once* long sentinel files of lights 
 rose on the avenue and down the fleeting side streets, 
 miraculous electric signs burst out against the night, a 
 myriad windows caught fire, and the city, which a mo- 
 ment ago had seemed flat, climbed blazing into the air.
 
 62 
 
 They were again nearing the great artery, which 
 changes its name with the coming of the artificial night, 
 no longer Broadway, but the Rialto, with its mysteries 
 of entangled beams and profound pools of darkness, 
 its laughter free or suspect, its mingled virtue and vice, 
 elbowing and staring at each other, its joy and its 
 despair treading in each other's steps. 
 
 But the dread reminder was still above, hurling its 
 black engulfing storm across the bombardment of a 
 million lights, that painted it with a strange red glare, 
 but could not destroy its menace. A few cold drops of 
 rain, wind driven, dashed against their faces, as they 
 went with the crowd, scuttling on. There was some- 
 thing unreal now in all this, something artificial in the 
 glimpse of vacant restaurants setting their candles for 
 the guests who went fleeing home. Of plunging tem- 
 perament, she had a horror of these rare depressions, 
 striving frantically against the realization of what 
 must be, and striving thus, always suffering the more 
 keenly. In seeing all this fugitive world, flat shadows 
 driven restlessly as the shorn splendor of the streets, 
 she asked herself of what use it was after all, to be 
 young, to be attractive, to go laughing and dancing, 
 to dare, to conquer . . . why, indeed, childhood, ma- 
 turity and old age should stretch so far, and youth, 
 the exultant brilliant hour she clung to, should be al- 
 lotted only the few, the fingered years! She felt a 
 sense of loneliness, of terrified isolation, the need of 
 some one to come and talk to her, to interpose himself 
 between her and these unanswerable questions, to close 
 her eyes and stop her ears.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 63 
 
 When they reached Miss Pirn's the rain was be- 
 ginning in little flurries. She ran in and tip-stairs 
 hurriedly. She had hoped that she would find her 
 room lighted, that Snyder or Winona would be home. 
 No one was there, and when she opened the door she 
 entered a region of obscure shadowy forms, faintly 
 lighted by the reflection of a street lamp below. Across 
 the windows on the avenue was the cyclopean eye of 
 the Metropolitan tower, which she saw always every 
 night with her last peeping glance from her covers 
 enormous eye, bulging, swollen with curiosity. At the 
 other side was the wall of brick pressing against 
 the window-pane, this wall she hated as she hated the 
 idea of the commonplace in life. 
 
 She stood in the luminous pathway, gazing out- 
 ward. 
 
 " What is the matter with me ? " she thought. 
 " Am I like Winona ? Am I getting tired of it all ? 
 Or is it what?" 
 
 The metallic summons of the telephone broke upon 
 her mood. She lighted the gas quickly. The tele- 
 phone continued to clamor, but she took no step toward 
 it. All that she had planned as a choice for the even- 
 ing no longer interested her. She was in another 
 mood. She flung down her things rapidly. Then, re- 
 membering the bouquet of Sassoon's, she took it off, 
 pricking her fingers. Inclosed was a bank-note for a 
 hundred dollars ! 
 
 Then she began to laugh a bitter incongruous 
 note. She understood now why he had gone so 
 abruptly to his questions, confident in the test he had
 
 64 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 prepared among the fragile stems of orchids and dainty 
 yellow pansies. 
 
 All at once her eye went to her pin-cushion, caught 
 by the white note of visiting-cards left there by 
 Josephus, the colored chore-boy. She crossed quickly, 
 stretching out her finger impatiently. Which of the 
 four had come, as she had determined? The first 
 bore the name of Harrigan Blood, the second Albert 
 Edward Sassoon. She stood staring at the last, the 
 hundred-dollar bill still wrapped in her fingers. . . . 
 Sassoon and Harrigan Blood ! She let the cards drop, 
 profoundly disappointed, prey to a sudden heavy re- 
 turn of disillusionment. 
 
 The telephone, querulous, impatient, again called 
 her, but she turned her shoulder impatiently. Now 
 the thought of an evening of gaiety revolted her. 
 She changed quickly, wrapped herself up in an ulster, 
 took an umbrella and went out, though by the wide- 
 faced clock in the skies it was scarcely six. Before, 
 she had sought to break away, to escape recklessly 
 from the depression that claimed her : now she sought 
 it out, surrendering to this tristesse that whirled her 
 on with its exquisite benumbing melancholy. 
 
 She supped at a lunch-room in Lexington Avenue, 
 paying out a precious thirty cents for a cup of coffee, 
 a bowl of crackers and milk, a baked potato. Not 
 many were there yet. A young fellow without an 
 overcoat, stooping already, pinched by struggle, came 
 and sat at her table, seeking an opportunity to offer 
 her the sugar. But, seeing her so silent and inwardly 
 tortured, he did not persist.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 65 
 
 She did not notice him. She was thinking always 
 of Massingale, and a little of Lindaberry. Why had 
 she succeeded with Sassoon and Blood only to fail 
 where she wanted to win? 
 
 " He carries a coffin on his back! " she found her- 
 self repeating, in the cynical words of Harrigan 
 Blood. He would not seek her out; nor would Mas- 
 singale. All her castles in the air had collapsed. It 
 was only to the others, then, that she could appeal 
 the flesh hunters ! 
 
 She returned, swaying against the wind, holding 
 her umbrella with difficulty against the spattering 
 rain-drops, that seemed to rise from the glistening 
 sidewalks. The young man, who had no umbrella, 
 remained in the shelter of a doorway, watching her. 
 undecidedly. 
 
 " Ah, yes! I must be getting tired of it! " she said 
 suddenly, as she reached her steps. A taxicab was 
 turning in the avenue, having just drawn away. As 
 she went slowly up the interminable, impenetrable, 
 dark flights to her room, she said, revolting against 
 an injustice: 
 
 " Well, if he doesn't come, I'll go and find him ! " 
 
 She entered her room, lagging and depressed, know- 
 ing not how to spend the hours until sleep arrived. 
 She had no feeling of reticence in seeking out Mas- 
 singale and Lindaberry, since they appealed to her 
 and would not come, any more than she felt the slight- 
 est diminution of her self-respect in situations labeled 
 with the appearance of suspicion. Her ideas of mo- 
 rality and conduct were not even formulated. They
 
 66 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 existed as the sense of danger exists to a pretty ani- 
 mal. For, ardently as she desired it, there had not 
 come into her soul the awakening breath of love, 
 which, in despite of old traditions and lost heritages, 
 alone would be to her rebellious little Salamander 
 soul the supreme law of conduct. 
 
 Suddenly she saw that on her pin-cushion another 
 card had been placed while she had been absent. She 
 went to it without expectation. It was from Massin- 
 gale Massingale, who must have left in the taxicab 
 even as she returned hopelessly. 
 
 Then it seemed to her as if a thousand tons had 
 slipped from her. She felt an extraordinary joy and 
 confidence, the alertness of a young animal, a need 
 of light and laughter, a longing to plunge into a rush 
 of excitement. 
 
 The telephone rang. Donald Bacon was clamor- 
 ing to take her to the cabaret party. She disliked 
 him cordially. She accepted with wild delight.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE morning was well spent when Dore awoke, 
 after a gray return from the cabaret party 
 where, in a revulsion of emotions, she had flirted scan- 
 dalously. But the men with whom she had danced,^ 
 laughed and fenced, provokingly were lost in a mist. 
 They had only served to eat up the intervening time; 
 she had not even a thought for them. 
 
 The busy bubbling whistle of a coffee-pot in fragrant 
 operation sounded from the table. She opened one 
 eye with difficulty, peering out the window at her 
 friend, the clock. It was already thirty-five minutes 
 past ten what might be called a dawn breakfast 
 in Salamanderland. 
 
 Snyder, moving about the table with a watchful 
 eye, came to her immediately. 
 
 "Take it easy, Petty! Don't wake up unless you 
 feel like it!" 
 
 She stood at the foot of the bed, and the smile of 
 fond solicitude with which she bent over Dodo, 
 lightly touching her hair, seemed like another soul 
 looking through the tired mask of Lottie Snyder. 
 
 "You're an angel, Snyder! You spoil me!" said 
 Dodo, rubbing her eyes and twisting her body in lazy 
 feline stretches. 
 
 67
 
 68 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Me an angel ? Huh ! " said Snyder, grinding on 
 her heel. 
 
 She went to the improvised kitchen with the free 
 gliding grace of the trained dancer, and lifting the 
 top of the coffee-pot, dropped in two eggs. 
 
 Breakfast at Miss Pirn's was an inviolable institu- 
 tion ending at eight-thirty sharp. Wherefore, as the 
 Salamanders would as soon have thought of getting 
 up to see the sun rise, coffee was always an improvisa- 
 tion and eggs a visitation of Providence. Besides, 
 the Salamanders, for the most part, made their ar- 
 rangements for lodgings only, trusting in the faith- 
 ful legion of props, but supplementing that trust by 
 an economical planning of the schedule ahead. In a 
 week, it was rare that a Salamander was forced to a 
 recourse on her purse for more than one luncheon 
 dinner never. 
 
 "Did you hear me come in?" said Dore, raising 
 her gleaming white arms in the air and letting the 
 silken sleeves slip rustling to her shoulders. 
 
 " Me? No! " said Snyder, who had not closed her 
 eyes until the return. " Here's the mail." 
 
 Dore raised herself eagerly on one elbow. 
 
 "How many? What! only four?" she said, tak- 
 ing the letters from Snyder. 
 
 She frowned at the instant perception of Miss 
 Pirn's familiar straight up and down, sharp and thin 
 writing, concealing the dreaded summons quickly be- 
 low the others, that Snyder, who paid nothing, might 
 not see. 
 
 Two she recognized; the third was unfamiliar.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 69 
 
 She turned it over, studying it, characteristically re- 
 serving the mystery until the last. But, as she put it 
 down on the white counterpane, she had a feeling of 
 expectant certitude that it was from Massingale. 
 
 " Well, let's see what my dear old patriarch says ! " 
 she said, settling back in the pillows and taking up a 
 stamped envelope, typewritten, with a business ad- 
 dress in the corner. 
 
 " Dear Miss Baxter: 
 
 " Will be in town to-morrow, Friday, the twenty-second. It 
 would give me great pleasure if you could lunch with me at 
 twelve-thirty. Will send my car for you at twelve-twenty. I 
 trust you are following my advice and giving attention to your 
 health. 
 
 " Very sincerely yours, 
 
 "ORLANDO B. PEAVEY. 
 
 " P. S. Am called to important business appointment at one- 
 thirty sharp, but take this brief opportunity to see you again. 
 Telephone my office only in case you can not come. 
 
 " O. B. P." 
 
 " Sweetest old thing ! " she said, smiling at the post- 
 script characteristically initialed. " So thoughtful 
 kindest person in the world ! " 
 
 Snyder brought her coffee and an egg broken and 
 seasoned in a tooth-mug. Dore glanced at it sus- 
 piciously, seeking to discover if the division had been 
 fair. 
 
 " My! Eggs are a luxury," she said, applying the 
 tip of her tongue to the tip of the spoon; and she 
 added meditatively : " I wish Stacey went in for 
 chickens ! " 
 
 She took up the unknown letter, turned it over
 
 70 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 once more, and laid it slowly aside in favor of the 
 second, a fat envelope covered with the boyish scrawl 
 of the prop in disgrace. She spread the letter, frown- 
 ing determinedly. Joe Gilday was difficult to manage, 
 too alert to be long kept in the prop squad. It be- 
 gan without preliminaries and a fine independence of 
 punctuation : 
 
 "Look here, Do what's the use of rubbing it in on a fellow? 
 You've made me miserable as an Esquimo in Africa, and why? 
 What have I done? Supposing I did slip fifty in your bureau 
 honest to God Do you don't think I'd do anything to jar your 
 feelings do you? Lord, I'll lay down and let you use me for 
 a door mat for a week if it'll help any. Kid you've got 
 me going bad. I'm miserable. I'm all shot to pieces 
 insult you, why Do, I'd Turkey Trot on my Granny's grave 
 first. Won't you let up see a fellow won't you ? I'll be 
 around at noon if you don't see me I swear I'll warm the door- 
 step until the neighbors come out and feed me for charity: 
 that's straight too! Now be a good sort Do and give me a 
 chance to explain. 
 
 " Down in the dumps, 
 
 "J. J. (Just Joe.)" 
 
 This note, inspired with the slang of Broadway, 
 would have made Dore laugh the day before, but the 
 experiences of the last twenty-four hours had given 
 her a standard of comparison. Between Joseph Gil- 
 day, Junior, and the men she had met there was a 
 whole social voyage. Nevertheless, props were neces- 
 sary, and undecided, she laid the scrawl on Mr. 
 Peavey's neat invitation, postponing decisions. She 
 opened the third, drawing out a neat oblong card, 
 neatly inscribed in a minuscule graceful handwriting, 
 slightly scented :
 
 THE SALAMANDER 71 
 
 "My dear Miss Baxter: 
 " I shall call this afternoon at two o'clock. 
 
 "A. E. SASSOON." 
 
 She was not surprised at the signature nor the 
 pasha-like brevity. 
 
 " Harrigan Blood won't take chances ; he'll tele- 
 phone," she thought. At the bottom she was pleased 
 at this insistence of Sassoon's; it worked well with 
 the plan she had determined on for his disciplining. 
 "You're sure that's all?" she said aloud, wondering 
 what Massingale would do. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Wonder why he called so soon ? " she thought 
 pensively; and then, remembering the warring cards 
 of Blood and Sassoon, added : " To warn me, per- 
 haps?" 
 
 She smiled at this possibility, sure of herself, know- 
 ing well how weak the strongest man is before the 
 weakest of her sex, when he comes with a certain 
 challenge in his eyes. 
 
 "So Sassoon is coming, is he? Good!" she said 
 musingly, a little far-off mockery in her smile ; and to 
 herself she rehearsed again the scene she had pre- 
 pared, coddling her cheek against her bare soft arm, 
 dreamily awake. 
 
 She would receive him with carefully simulated 
 cordiality there below in the dusky boarding-house 
 parlor; she could even lead him to believe that he 
 might dare anything; and suddenly, when she had led 
 him to indiscretions, she would say suddenly, as if 
 the thought had just suggested itself:
 
 72 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " What ! you have no flowers. You shall wear 
 mine! " 
 
 She smiled a little more maliciously at the thought 
 of the look that would come into those heavy foolish 
 eyes at this. Then, taking a few violets from her 
 corsage, she would fix them in his buttonhole, saying: 
 
 " No, no ; look up at the ceiling while I fix them 
 nicely so! " 
 
 And, when she had coaxed him into a ridiculous 
 craning of his neck, she would deftly pin the hundred- 
 dollar bill on the lapel under the little cluster of purple, 
 and turning him toward the mirror, say, with a mock- 
 ing farewell courtesy: 
 
 " Mr. Albert Edward Sassoon, I have the pleasure 
 of returning your visiting-card ! " 
 
 She was so content with this bit of romance that 
 she laughed aloud. 
 
 " Hello! what's up?" said Snyder, taking away the 
 tooth-mug. 
 
 D.odo could not restrain her admiration. 
 
 " You know, Snyder," she said seriously, " I am 
 really very clever ! " 
 
 But she did not particularize. She had a feeling 
 that Snyder, who watched over her in a faithful, ador- 
 ing, dog-like way, might not quite approve. She did 
 not know quite what made her feel this, for they had 
 not exchanged intimacies; yet she felt occasionally in 
 Snyder's glance, when she met it unawares, a dormant 
 uneasy apprehension. 
 
 " Now for it ! " she thought, and taking up the 
 last note, unstamped, she tore it open.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 73 
 
 "Miss Dore Baxter, Dr. 
 
 " To Miss Evangelica Pirn 
 " Four weeks' lodging, third floor double room front at $10 
 
 per week $40 
 
 " Kindly call to see me as to above account." 
 
 " Four impossible ! " exclaimed Dore, bolt up- 
 right, now thoroughly awake. But instantly she re- 
 pressed her emotions, lest Snyder might guess the 
 cause. She made a rapid calculation, and discovered 
 that in fact she had to face four deficiencies instead 
 of three. But finances never long dismayed her. 
 
 " Anyhow," she thought, " I can turn over the 
 champagne. If only Winona raised something on the 
 orchids ! There are a dozen ways, but I must give it 
 some attention ! " 
 
 Suddenly she remembered Harrigan Blood's esti- 
 mate of the cost of yesterday's luncheon, and of what 
 she had herself turned over with her fork. She 
 thought of what Sassoon spent so carelessly, and of 
 what he might squander were he once awakened, really 
 interested. . . . Not that there was the slightest temp- 
 tation, no but it did amuse her to consider thus the 
 irony of her present dilemma. Well, there certainly 
 were funny things in life ! 
 
 Snyder had silently cleared away breakfast, and 
 seated herself with a book by the window. Now, 
 glancing at the clock, she rose. 
 
 "Ready for tub, Petty? I'll start it up." 
 
 " Snyder, you're too good to me ! " said Dore, rous- 
 ing herself from her reveries. 
 
 " Huh ! Wish I could ! Hot or cold ? "
 
 74 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 But Dore, catching her wrist, detained her, her 
 curiosity excited. 
 
 " You're the queerest thing- I ever knew! " she said, 
 looking at her fixedly. 
 
 "That's right, too!" 
 
 " Why do you insist upon my calling you Snyder? " 
 
 " Don't like to get fond of people," said the other 
 shortly. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Too long a story." 
 
 She sought to detach her wrist, but Dore held it 
 firmly. 
 
 "And aren't you fond of me?" 
 
 Snyder hesitated, frowning at thus being forced to 
 talk. 
 
 " Sure! Couldn't help it, could I?" 
 
 Dore smiled, pleased at this admission. 
 
 " And yet, you have such a funny way of watching 
 me!" 
 
 "Me? How so?" 
 
 " Yes, you have ! I often wonder what's back of 
 a certain queer look you get " 
 
 "What I'm thinking?" 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " I want to see you married and settled, girlie! " 
 
 No more unexpected answer could have been given. 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! " said Dore, sitting up in astonish- 
 ment. For this commonplace solution to all the ro- 
 mantic possibilities she imagined always infuriated 
 her. But at this moment Ida Summers came, after 
 a little rippling knock, a grapefruit in hand.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 75 
 
 The new arrival was in bedroom slippers and pink 
 peignoir, her disordered hair concealed under a tasseled 
 negligee cap. She was a bit roly-poly, but piquant, 
 merry, still new to Salamanderland, hugely enjoying 
 each little excitement. 
 
 "Breakfasted already?" she said in astonishment. 
 " Heavens ! Dodo, how do you get up in the middle 
 of the night?" 
 
 She began to laugh before she finished the sentence, 
 she laughed so hard as she said it that it was almost 
 incomprehensible, and she continued laughing long 
 after Dore had ceased. She could hardly ever relate 
 an incident without being overcome with laughter, but 
 the sound was pleasantly musical, infectious even, and 
 the blue devils went out the window as she came in the 
 door. 
 
 " Heavens ! . . . thought I had a swap for a cup 
 of coffee," she said, beginning to laugh again at the 
 thought of her exploded stratagem. 
 
 " There ought to be some left," said Dore, venturing 
 one rosy foot from under the covers in search of a 
 warm slipper. She was still thinking of Snyder's 
 strange speech. 
 
 Having teased from the coffee-pot a bare cup of 
 coffee, Ida camped down on the couch, and while 
 waiting for the coffee to cool, applied the end of her 
 forefinger to the tip of her nose in the way to uplift it 
 contrary to the gift of nature. 
 
 " Ida, do leave that nose alone," said Dore. 
 
 "I must have a retrousse nose," said the girl 
 merrily. " This doesn't go with my style of laughter.
 
 76 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 All the artist-men tell me so. Ah, this nose ! " And 
 she gave it a vicious jolt, in her indignation. Her 
 coloring was gorgeous, her lines were delicate, her ex- 
 pressions vivacious and quick with natural coquetry. 
 Wherefore she was in great demand among the illus- 
 trators, who had reproduced her tomboy smile on the 
 covers of a million magazines. She was in great de- 
 mand, but she was capricious in her engagements 
 like all Salamanders, sacrificing everything to pleasure. 
 
 Winona Horning, aroused by the sounds of laughter, 
 appeared through the connecting door, in a green and 
 black negligee, rubbing her eyes, quite indignant. 
 
 " Heavens, child ! No one can sleep when you're 
 round ! Hello, Snyder. Morning, Dodo ! " 
 
 She said the last words in a tone that made Snyder 
 look up at her, surprised. There was a note of reluc- 
 tance, even of apprehension. 
 
 " Ida's drunk up the coffee ; make her give you a 
 grapefruit," said Dodo, nodding and departing. 
 
 When she darted in twenty minutes later, tingling 
 and alert for the day, Snyder had gone and Ida Sum- 
 mers, curled like an Angora cat on the couch, was chat- 
 ting to Winona, who stood in the doorway, undecid- 
 edly, turning a cigarette in her fingers, watching Dodo 
 from under her long eyelashes. 
 
 " You certainly made the big hit last night, Win," 
 said Ida rapidly. " Do, you should have seen her. 
 She gets the men with that quiet waiting manner of 
 hers. I can't do it to save my life. I have to rush 
 in, barking like a white fluffy dog, to get noticed." 
 
 " Where were you ? " said Dore, opening all the
 
 77 
 
 trunks and ransacking the bureaus. When she dressed, 
 the room had always the look of a sudden descent by 
 the police. 
 
 " Up at Vaughan Chandler's studio," said Ida, giv- 
 ing the name of one of the popular illustrators, who 
 catered to the sentimental yearnings of the multitude. 
 " Quite some party, too, celebrities and swells. I say, 
 Do, why don't you go in for head and shoulders? 
 They're perfect gentlemen, you know . . . flirty, of 
 course, . . . but it pays well, and they'd go daffy over 
 you." 
 
 " Don't know . . . hadn't thought of it," said Dore, 
 who, having decided to see Gilday and lunch with 
 Peavey, was in a reverie over the subject of the dra- 
 matic costume. " By the way, Winona, raise anything 
 on the orchids ? " 
 
 " Only eight bones hard enough getting that," 
 said Winona slowly. 
 
 " Old brute ! Pouffe would have given double," 
 said Dore indignantly. " By the way, Joe's coming 
 at noon. I must dress the stage up for him. What 
 flowers have you girls got ? " 
 
 " Three vases," said Ida joyfully. " Couple of 
 southern millionaires are getting quite demonstrative 
 over little me. What's up? ... Going to coax the 
 Kitty?" she added, meaning in Salamanderish, 
 " Are you going to encourage him to make pres- 
 ents?" 
 
 " Must raise something on this confounded rent," 
 said Dore briefly. " Then, there are other reasons." 
 
 As Ida went tripping off, her little white ankles
 
 78 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 gleaming, Winona entered with two jars of chrysan- 
 themums which she placed, one on the table and one 
 on the mantel, slowly, frowning. Then she turned 
 and said, with a gesture like a blow: 
 
 "Do, I took it! I had to!" 
 
 "Took what?" Said Dore, startled. 
 
 "Joe's fifty!" 
 
 Dore sprang precipitately to the drawer and opened 
 it. 
 
 " Winona, you you didn't ! " 
 
 " It was that or get out ! " said Winona doggedly, 
 her back against the wall. " The Duchess made a 
 scene. I'll pay it back sure!" 
 
 "But, Winona, what am I to do? Joe's coming. 
 I must I have to return it to him. What can I 
 say?" said Dore in dismay, staring at the empty 
 drawer. " You had no right ! You should have 
 asked me. I can't oh, you've put me in an awful 
 hole ! It wasn't right ! " 
 
 "Don't! Dodo don't!" 
 
 The girl clasped her hands, extending them in sup- 
 plication, and burst into tears. 
 
 Dore could not resist the spectacle of this misery. 
 She sprang to her side, seizing her in her arms, all 
 her anger gone. 
 
 " Never mind ! I don't care ! You poor child ! It 
 isn't the money it isn't that ! I'll find some way." 
 All at once she remembered the hundred dollars of 
 Sassoon's bouquet. " Stupid ! Why, of course ! " 
 She recounted hastily the incident to Winona, smooth- 
 ing her hair.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 79 
 
 " But, Do, you can't take it. How can you? " said 
 Winona, becoming more calm. 
 
 " Why not? It was a present to each." 
 
 " But what can you say to Sassoon? " 
 
 "Him? Let me alone; I'll invent something 
 he'll never know ! Bah ! I shall miss a fine scene, that's 
 all ! " she added with a dramatic regret. " Well, 
 that's over ! How much did you use ? " 
 
 " Thirty-five." 
 
 "Keep the rest!" 
 
 " I'll pay." 
 
 " Bur-r shut up ! I'm not lending. Borrowing 
 
 breaks up friendships. It's yours it's given ! " 
 
 She looked at the distressed girl a moment and 
 added apprehensively: 
 
 "Winona, you're losing your grip!" 
 
 "Losing? It's gone!" 
 
 " Decidedly, I must see Blainey this afternoon and 
 get that job for you," said Dore pensively. She dis- 
 liked these sudden bleak apparitions and hated long to 
 consider them. " You'll see in a few days, all will be 
 changed all ! " 
 
 Ida returned with long-stemmed chrysanthemums 
 towering over her brown curls, and made a second trip 
 for some hydrangeas which she had found at Estelle 
 Monks' below. The room had now quite the effect of 
 a conservatory. 
 
 "Why don't you work the birthday gag?" said 
 Winona helpfully. 
 
 " Can't ! November's my month for Joe," said Dore 
 reluctantly.
 
 So THE SALAMANDER 
 
 Birthdays, needless to say, are legitimate perquisites 
 in Salamanderland, and pretty certain to occur in the 
 first or second months of each new acquaintance. 
 
 As the three Salamanders were thoughtfully con- 
 sidering this possibility, three knocks like the blow of 
 a hammer sounded on the door, and the next moment 
 the dreaded form of Miss Pirn, yclept the Duchess, 
 swept, or rather bounded, in. 
 
 " Humph ! and what's this f olderol mean ? " she 
 said, stopping short, sniffing and folding her hands 
 over her stomach. " Very fine ! Plenty of money 
 for cabs, perfumes, silks, hats, flowers, luxuries " 
 
 " You certainly don't object to my having plenty 
 of money, do you, Miss Pirn ? " said Dore in a caress- 
 ing voice, as she went to her purse before the landlady 
 could make the demand direct. " You seem rather 
 anxious about my little bill, I believe ! " 
 
 "Little!" exclaimed Miss Pirn, sitting down with 
 the motion of a jack-knife shutting up. 
 
 Dore's calmness took away her breath, but a cer- 
 tain joy showed itself eagerly over her spectacled nose. 
 She understood that such impudence meant pay. 
 Nevertheless she sat stiffly and suspiciously, ready to 
 pounce upon the slightest evasion. 
 
 Miss Pirn's face advanced in three divisions fore- 
 head, keen nose and sharpened chin. She wore a 
 high false front, of a warmer brown than the slightly 
 grizzled hair that she piled en turban on her head, a 
 majestic note which had earned her the sobriquet of 
 " the Duchess." She adhered to the toilets of the late
 
 THE SALAMANDER 81 
 
 seventies flowing brown shotted silks, heavy me- 
 dallions, hair bracelets, and on state occasions ap- 
 peared in baby pinks, as if denying the passage of 
 years. She had had a tragic romance one only, 
 for her nature was too determined to risk another, 
 and at the age of fifty- four she still showed herself 
 implacable to the male sex, although not unwilling to 
 let it be known that she could choose one of three any 
 day she selected. She carried a hand-bag, which 
 jingled with the warning note of silver dollars. She 
 was horribly avaricious, and the Salamanders who 
 courted her favor paid her, whenever possible, in 
 species. Then she would open her bag, holding it 
 between her knees, and drop into it, one by one, the 
 shining round dollars, listening eagerly to the metallic 
 shock. 
 
 " My dear Miss Pirn," said Dore, returning with 
 her pocketbook, in a tone of calm superiority that left 
 the landlady dumfounded, " I've told you frequently 
 that I prefer my bill monthly. These weekly rounds 
 are exceedingly annoying. Please don't bother me 
 again. I have nothing smaller than a hundred; can 
 you change it ? " 
 
 And flirting the fabulous bill before the eyes of the 
 landlady, she nonchalantly let it flutter from the tips 
 of her disdainful fingers. 
 
 Miss Pirn, who liked to inspire terror, was so com- 
 pletely nonplused that, though her lips worked spas- 
 modically, she found nothing to say. She took the 
 bill furiously, and went out. A moment later Jo-
 
 82 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 sephus appeared with the change in an envelope. The 
 Salamanders were still in gales of laughter over the 
 discomfiture of their common enemy. 
 
 Dodo, left alone, dressed in a simple dress of dull 
 black, relieved by a lace edging at the throat and 
 sleeves, and a tailor hat with the invariable splash of 
 a red feather; for she made it a superstition never to 
 be without a little red flutter of audacity and daring. 
 Then she zealously applied the powder, to give a touch 
 of ailing melancholy to her young cheeks it would 
 never do to appear before Mr. Peavey in too healthy 
 a manifestation. In general, it must be noted that 
 no Salamander is ever in perfect health. There is al- 
 ways lurking in the background a melancholy but most 
 serviceable ailment that not only does for a thousand 
 excuses, but encourages concrete evidences of mascu- 
 line sympathy. 
 
 Her costume finished, she exercised her prevarica- 
 tory talents at the telephone, soothing irate admirers, 
 who had clamored ineffectually for her the evening 
 before, with plausible tales which, if they did not en- 
 tirely believe, they ended by weakly accepting, which 
 amounted to the same thing. 
 
 At noon, according to orders, Joseph Gilday, Junior, 
 arrived with a carefully simulated hang-dog look. 
 He was a wiry, sharp-eyed, jingling little fellow, just 
 twenty, already imbued with the lawyer's mocking 
 smile, on the verge of being a man of the world, eager 
 to arrive there, but not quite emancipated. For the 
 last month in this growing phase Dore had found the 
 lines of discipline difficult to maintain. She even
 
 THE SALAMANDER 83 
 
 foresaw the time when it would be impossible. He 
 had to be handled carefully. 
 
 " Hello, Dodo," said Gilday in a hollow tone of 
 misery, dragging his cane into the room and fastening 
 humble eyes on his yellow spats. 
 
 " Good morning," said Dore frigidly, for she per- 
 ceived his maneuver was to force a laugh. 
 
 ''' Thunderation ! what is it ? " said Gilday, lifting his 
 head and perceiving for the first time the floral display 
 on the trunk tops, the bureaus and the mantelpieces. 
 " I say, is this your October birthday?" 
 
 " What do you mean ? " said Dore blankly, shaking 
 the water from the stems of Sassoon's orchids. 
 
 " Never saw so many flowers in my born life ! " 
 
 " Many? ... do you think so ? " said Dore with the 
 air of a marquise. 
 
 "Ouch!" said Gilday; "I got it! ... I got it!" 
 
 " I think you came here to . . ." 
 
 Gilday flushed; apologies were not easy for him. 
 
 " What's the use of kicking up a tempest about a 
 little bill of fifty? " he said sulkily. " You could take 
 it as all the other girls do ! " 
 
 " My dear Joe," said Dore, seizing her opportunity 
 instantly, " other girls do, yes the kind that I think 
 you see entirely too much of. The trouble with you 
 is, you are not man of the world enough to distinguish. 
 That's the trouble of letting boys play around with 
 me ; they make mistakes " 
 
 " Come, now," he broke in furiously, for she 
 had touched him on the raw of his vanity. 
 
 Dore stopped his exclamations with an abrupt ges-
 
 84 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 ture, and picking from her purse a fifty-dollar bill, 
 held it to him between two fingers. 
 
 "Take it!" 
 
 " You don't understand." 
 
 " I understand perfectly, and I understand," she 
 added, looking him in the whites of the eyes, " just 
 what thoughts have been in the back of your head for 
 the last two weeks ! " 
 
 Her plain speaking left him without answer. He 
 reddened to his ears, took the bank-note and thrust 
 it in his pocket. 
 
 " Now I am going to say to you what I have to say 
 many times," she said, without softening her accusing 
 glance. " I expect to be misunderstood often. I 
 live independently, and as men are mostly stupid or 
 brutal, I expect to have to set them right. I forgive 
 always one mistake one only. If you make a sec- 
 ond, I cut your acquaintance! Now we'll consider 
 the matter closed ! " 
 
 Gilday gulped, suddenly enlightened, overcome with 
 mortification, and in a sudden burst of sentimentality 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Dodo, if you'll take me I'll marry you to-night! " 
 
 This unexpected turn, the value of which she did 
 not overestimate, brought her a mad desire to burst 
 out laughing. It was not the first time that she had 
 been surprised by such sudden outbursts, and not be- 
 ing given to the study of psychology, had always been 
 puzzled with a little disdain for the superior mas- 
 culine sex. 
 
 " Neither now nor ever! " she said, with a shrug of
 
 THE SALAMANDER 85 
 
 the shoulders. " Don't be a silly ! Hand me my muff 
 - there on the table. It's time to be going ! " 
 
 She replaced the orchids, deciding it was best to 
 appear alone and unbefriended before Peavey. Joe, 
 going to the table, stole a glance at the cards of Sas- 
 soon, Harrigan Blood and Judge Massingale, appar- 
 ently carelessly thrown there, and returned with en- 
 larged eyes. 
 
 " Damn it, Do," he said, with a new respect, " I 
 wish you'd let me buy you a diamond necklace or an 
 automobile. This money burns my pocket! " 
 
 " Presents, all you wish. Send me a little bouquet 
 of orchids, if it will make you feel better," she said, 
 descending the stairs. " Orchids I never get tired of. 
 If I were rich I'd wear a new bunch every day. Pouffe 
 has such exquisite ones. . . ." 
 
 The stairs were so dark that she had to feel her 
 way: she could smile without fear of detection. 
 
 " He will leave an order for a bouquet every day," 
 she thought confidently, and she began busily to cal- 
 culate the advantages of her understanding with that 
 justly fashionable florist.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 OF all the men Dodo met, paraded and ticketed 
 to her own satisfaction, Mr. Orlando B. Peavey 
 was perhaps the one she had the most difficulty in 
 keeping in the status quo. Not that a wounding thought 
 could ever cross his timid imagination, but that she 
 feared a crisis which by every art she sought to post- 
 pone. On the day he found courage to propose, she 
 knew their friendship would end. This exact and 
 vigorous man of business, indefatigable, keen and 
 abrupt in the conduct of affairs, was as shy and dis- 
 turbed in her presence as a wild fawn. At the age of 
 twelve he had been forced, by the sudden death of his 
 father, to give up an education and fling himself into 
 the breach. For thirty-five years he had worked as 
 only an American can who is resolute, ambitious, pas- 
 sionately enwrapped in work, without the distractions 
 of a youth that had been closed to him, or without 
 other knowledge of women than the solitary devotion 
 he gave to an invalid mother, who querulously and 
 jealously claimed his few spare hours. All the depth 
 of sentiment and affection he lavished in small atten- 
 tions on this invalid. Yet at her death a great empti- 
 ness arrived life itself seemed suddenly incompre- 
 hensible. 
 
 For the first time he perceived that he had almost 
 
 86
 
 THE SALAMANDER 87 
 
 reached fifty, and had he taken stock of his demands 
 on life he would have found that business had ceased 
 to be a means, but had become the sole end, the day 
 and the night of his existence. Several times he had 
 had a furtive desire to marry, to create a home, to look 
 upon children whom he might shower with the en- 
 joyments of youth, which he might thus in a reflected 
 way experience. But the complaining shadow at his 
 side was a jealous tyrant, always on the watch for 
 such an eventuality, bitterly resisting it with hysterical 
 reproaches and frightened prognostications of aban- 
 donment. But when at last, two years ago, he had 
 found his life set in solitary roads, he had at first said 
 to himself that the opportunity had come too late, that 
 he was past the age when marriage would be safe. 
 The word " safe " was characteristic of the man. He 
 had a horror of becoming ridiculous. 
 
 Nevertheless, a life which had been conceived in sac- 
 rifice could not endure selfishly. There were great 
 depths of compassion, yearnings toward the ideal in 
 this walled-in existence, that had to be fed. He felt 
 imperatively the need of doing good, of generosity to- 
 ward some other human being. He thought of 
 adopting a child, and as this idea grew he was sur- 
 prised to find that his thoughts constantly formed them- 
 selves not in the image of his own sex, but of a young 
 girl, fragile and unprotected, innocent, with the dawn- 
 ing wonder of the world in her eyes, light of foot, 
 warm of voice, with the feeling of the young season 
 of spring in the rustle of her garments. 
 
 Then he had met Dore.
 
 88 
 
 He had met her through the daughter of a western 
 business acquaintance, who had confided her to his 
 care. From the first meeting, he had felt a turbulent 
 awakening in him at the sight of her glowing youth. 
 At the thought of her, so inexperienced and candid, 
 subject to all the hard shocks of metropolitan strug- 
 gle, standing so fragile and alone amid the perils, the 
 temptations and the hunger of the flaring city, he 
 had felt an instant desire to step between her and 
 this huddled snatching mob, to give her everything, 
 to make all possible to her, to watch her face flush 
 and her eyes sparkle at the possession of each new 
 delight that youth craves. But other thoughts came, 
 and he began to suffer keenly, afraid of fantastic per- 
 ils that tossed before him in his silent hours. If, 
 after all, she should find him ridiculous he an old 
 man, and she so fresh, so delicate! Then another 
 horrible fear came. What did he know of her of 
 any woman? If he were deceived, after all? He be- 
 came suspicious, watching her with a woman's spying 
 for significant details, alarmed, poised for instant 
 flight. 
 
 This was the man who was waiting for her in the 
 long corridor of the Waldorf-Astoria, black coat over 
 his arm, derby in hand, not too portly, not too bald, 
 square-toed, dressed in the first pepper-and-salt busi- 
 ness suit, ready-made, which had been presented him, 
 low turn-down collar, and a light purple tie, likewise 
 made up. Small nose and aquiline, eyes gray under 
 bushy eyebrows, lip obscured under heavy drooping 
 fall of the mustache. He steadied himself on his
 
 THE SALAMANDER 89 
 
 heels, beating time with his toes, wondering what oth- 
 ers would think when they saw he was waiting for a 
 young and pretty girl. 
 
 He saw her flitting down the long hall, head shyly 
 down, light, graceful, scattering imaginary flowers on 
 her way; and the sensation of life and terror that she 
 set leaping within him was so acute that he pretended 
 not to perceive her until she was at his elbow. 
 
 " It's very good of you to come," he said at last, 
 when they had reached their table in a discreet corner. 
 
 " It's very kind of you to think of me," she said 
 instantly, a little touched by the confusion in his man- 
 ner. She understood the reason, and it saddened her 
 that it should be so that he could not always be 
 kept just a devoted friend. 
 
 " I'm rushing through ; wanted to know how you 
 were!" 
 
 "Don't you think I look better?" she said, raising 
 her eyes in heavy melancholy. " The champagne has 
 done wonders." 
 
 He was not able to do more than glance hastily at 
 her. 
 
 " You don't look yet as you ought to," he said, 
 shaking his head. " You need air. I have a plan 
 I'll tell you later." 
 
 " I'm taking fresh eggs, two a day," said Dore, 
 wondering what he had in view. " Only it's so hard 
 to get real fresh ones ! " 
 
 " My dear girl, I'll send you the finest in the mar- 
 ket," he said joyfully, delighted at the opportunity of 
 such a service.
 
 90 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 He took out a note-book and wrote in a light curved 
 hand, " Eggs," and replacing it, said : 
 
 " If I send you a pint of the finest dairy cream each 
 morning, will you promise faithfully to make an egg- 
 nogg of it? It's splendid just what you need!" 
 
 " I'll do anything you tell me," said Dore, genuinely 
 touched by the pleasure in his face. It was not en- 
 tirely self-interest that had made her lead up to the 
 subject, for she could have secured a response from a 
 dozen quarters. It was perhaps an instinctive under- 
 standing of the man and what it meant to him to find 
 even a small outlet to his need of giving. 
 
 Mr. Peavey methodically had taken out his memo- 
 randum and by the side of " Eggs " had added " and 
 cream." 
 
 She would have preferred that he should need no 
 reminders; but at this moment, on taking up her nap- 
 kin, she gave a cry of pleasure. Inserted between the 
 folds was a package of tickets. She scanned them 
 hastily groups of two for each Monday night of the 
 opera. 
 
 " Oh, you darling ! " she exclaimed, carried away 
 with delight. 
 
 He reddened, pleased as a boy. " Want you to 
 hear good music," he said in self-excusation. " Shan't 
 be here always; you'll have to take a friend." 
 
 " Oh, but I want to go with you ! " said Dore, genu- 
 inely moved. 
 
 " When I'm here can't tell," he said, in the sev- 
 enth heaven of happiness. " But I want you to go 
 regularly; besides, my car is to call for you."
 
 THE SALAMANDER 91 
 
 " You are so kind," said Dore, looking at him sol- 
 emnly, and forgetting for the moment all thought of 
 calculation. " Really, I don't think there is another 
 man in the world so kind ! " 
 
 " Nonsense ! Stuff and nonsense ! " he said, resort- 
 ing hastily to a glass of water. The waiter came up. 
 He took the menu in hand, glad for the diversion. 
 
 " How good he is ! " she thought, watching the so- 
 licitude with which he studied the menu for the dishes 
 she ought to take. " He would do anything I wanted. 
 If he were only a colonel or a judge! " 
 
 She was thinking of the ponderous mustache, and 
 wondering in a vague way what it would be like to be 
 Mrs. Orlando B. Peavey. Perhaps, she could get 
 him to cut his mustache like Harrigan Blood. At 
 any rate, he ought to change his tie. Purple light 
 purple! and made up, too! With any other man she 
 would have attacked the offending tie at once, for she 
 had a passion for regulating the dress of her admir- 
 ers; but with Mr. Peavey it was different. A single 
 suggestion that he could not wear such a shade, and 
 she fancied she could see him bolting through the shat- 
 tering window. 
 
 " Will you do me a favor a great favor, Miss 
 Baxter?" he said finally, turning to her in great em- 
 barrassment. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " It would make me happy very happy," he said, 
 hesitating. 
 
 " Of course I will," she said, wondering what it 
 could be.
 
 92 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " It's not much it really is nothing. I mean, it 
 means nothing to me to do it ! It's this : I am away 
 so much ; my car is here nothing to do ; you need a 
 ride, good air every afternoon, and, besides, I 
 don't like to think of you going around alone in taxi- 
 cabs or street-cars, unprotected. The car is standing 
 idle ; it's bad for the chauffeur. Won't you let me put 
 it at your disposal for the winter for a month, any- 
 way?" 
 
 " Oh, but, Mr. Peavey, I couldn't ! How could I ? " 
 
 " You don't think it would be proper? " he said in 
 alarm. 
 
 " No, no, not that! " she said, and a strange thought 
 was at the back of her head. " For the opera, yes ! 
 And occasionally in the afternoon. But the rest it 
 is too much ; too much ! I couldn't accept it ! " 
 
 He was immensely relieved that this was the only 
 objection. 
 
 " I should feel you were protected," he said ear- 
 nestly. " That worries me. Such horrible things 
 happen ! " 
 
 " But I am a professional ! I must take care of 
 myself ! " said Dore, with a sudden assumption of seri- 
 ousness. 
 
 She began to talk of her career, of her independence, 
 her ambitions rapidly, feeling that there were 
 sunken perils in the course of his conversation. 
 
 " Really, it isn't difficult. American men are chiv- 
 alrous ; they always protect a young girl really, I've 
 been surprised! And then, I don't think it's quite 
 right that I should have advantages other girls haven't.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 93 
 
 If I'm going on the stage, I should take everything as 
 it comes. Besides, it teaches me what life is, doesn't 
 it? Then, it's such fun being independent, and mak- 
 ing yourself respected! By the way, I feel so much 
 stronger now, I shouldn't wonder if I could be on the 
 stage again soon. Blainey wants to talk to me I 
 may see him this afternoon. He's such a good kind 
 fellow, just like you, Mr. Peavey! Really, all men 
 seem to try and protect me ! " 
 
 But the real reason she did not wholly accept his 
 offer she did not tell him. 
 
 "Are you sure you want a career?" he said ab- 
 ruptly. 
 
 " Do !?...! don't know! " she said, eating hun- 
 grily. " But you see the trouble is, I've got to find 
 out ! Oh, I don't want anything small ! No holding 
 up a horse in the back row of an extravaganza, as Ida 
 says ! " 
 
 "You won't like the life! . . ." 
 
 " Won't I ? Perhaps not ! . . . I know some 
 women have a bad time! But every one looks after 
 me! . . ." 
 
 She shifted the conversation to his interests, and 
 kept it there, with one eye on the clock. It was diffi- 
 cult choosing her questions, for all would not do. 
 For instance, she wished to ask him why he did not 
 stop working and enjoy his money; but that would 
 have opened up a direct and personal reply. 
 
 " Why do you work so hard ? " she said, instead. 
 
 " I've got to do something ! " he answered ; " and, 
 besides, I'm on the point of something big if I carry
 
 94 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 it through. In another year I'll be a rich man quite 
 a rich man ! " 
 
 He looked away as he said it, ashamed, knowing at 
 heart why he had offered it up to her thus against 
 his fifty years ! But in a moment, chirping ahead rap- 
 idly, she had put him at his ease, and keeping the con- 
 versation on light topics, avoided further dangers. 
 
 He left her with stiff formal bows, placing her in 
 his automobile and giving the chauffeur directions. 
 
 The car went smoothly through the crush. It was 
 a good car, she was a judge! in perfect order. 
 Whatever Peavey did was always of the best. The 
 chauffeur had quite an air, too. She disturbed the 
 heavy fur rugs that had been so carefully wrapped 
 about her little feet, sunk her head gratefully against 
 the cushions, and thought, with a long easy breath : 
 
 "Well, that's one thing I could do!" 
 
 She began to consider it from all points of view: 
 
 " I wonder what it'd be like to be Mrs. Orlando B. 
 Peavey?" 
 
 An automobile two or three; seats at the opera 
 a box in the upper row, perhaps; a big house; big 
 dinners. Or, better still, travel, strange countries, cu- 
 rious places. Then she remembered the mustache. 
 On a colonel or a judge, perhaps. What a pity he 
 wasn't either! To be the young wife of a colonel or 
 a judge was quite distinguished! 
 
 He was good, kind, gentle. She might even go in 
 for charity. Perhaps, after ten or fifteen years, she 
 might be left a widow, with lots of money. Fifteen 
 was rather long ten would be better ! There was a
 
 THE SALAMANDER 95 
 
 girl she knew who had married an old man worth ten 
 millions, who had died before the year was out. What 
 luck! But then, all husbands are not so obliging! 
 
 This reverie did not last long. She tied it up, so 
 to speak, in a neat package and put it in a pigeonhole. 
 It was comforting to think of it as a possibility ! Why 
 had he offered her his automobile every day just 
 for her own? Was it pure generosity, or was there 
 something else? She smiled; such motives she read 
 easily. Wasn't it, in fact, to know what her daily 
 life was! whom she saw, where she went, to know 
 absolutely, before he took the final plunge ? She smiled 
 again. She was sure there was something of all this 
 in the gift, and leaning forward, she sought to study 
 the face of Brennon, the chauffeur, wondering if she 
 could make him an ally, could trust him if he were 
 human. 
 
 She had no time for conversation. Hardly had she 
 arrived before Miss Pirn's than she perceived Sas- 
 soon's automobile turning the corner. She did not 
 wish to meet him thus, though she was not sorry that 
 he had seen her return. So she ran hastily up-stairs 
 to her room, and was in the midst of a quick change 
 of toilet when Josephus brought the card. 
 
 "Tell him to wait!" 
 
 She took pains that this waiting should not be too 
 short, maliciously studying the clock for a good twenty 
 minutes before, prepared for the street, she went down. 
 
 " Now to be a desperate adventuress," she thought 
 to herself; and assuming a languid indifferent man- 
 ner, she entered the room.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 SASSOON was on his feet, moving restlessly, as 
 she entered. He was not accustomed to be kept 
 waiting, and to wait half an hour after he had seen 
 her enter just ahead of him was interminably vexing. 
 And yet, he was profoundly grateful for this teasing 
 delay. It awakened him; it made him hope. There 
 was a resistance, a defiance, in it that was as precious 
 as it was rare. He had wondered much about her as 
 he moved with slow irritation, stopping occasionally 
 to catch a reflection in the foggy mirror of his long, 
 oriental, slightly hanging head, and the grizzled mus- 
 tache which, with its mounting W, gave to his dulled 
 eyes a sharp staccato quality of a blinking bird of prey. 
 The drawing-room, or parlor, was like ten thousand 
 other parlors of boarding-houses brown, musty, 
 with an odor of upholstery and cooking, immense tab- 
 leaux sunk into the obscurity of the walls, imitation 
 Dresden shepherdesses on the mantel, an album of 
 Miss Pirn's on the table and a vase containing dried 
 flowers, cheap furniture, a crippled sofa placed in a 
 shadow, and weighing down all, the heavy respectability 
 of a Sunday afternoon. Occasionally the front door 
 opened to a latch-key, and a feminine form flitted by 
 the doorway, always pausing curiously to survey the 
 
 96
 
 THE SALAMANDER 97 
 
 parlor before sorting the mail that lay displayed on the 
 seat of the hat-rack. 
 
 Once a couple with cheery voices came full into 
 the room before perceiving his tenancy. They with- 
 drew abruptly, and he heard the girl saying to her es- 
 cort: 
 
 " Oh, well, come up to the room ; there's never a 
 chance at the old parlor! " 
 
 This mediocrity, this quiet, these flitting forms of 
 young women, the cub escort who was privileged to 
 enjoy intimacy, strangely excited him. There was 
 something really romantic in following a fancy into 
 such a lair, and the longer the plaguing clock sounded 
 its tinny march, the more vibrantly alert he felt, in 
 the anticipation of her coming. 
 
 " I saw you come in ! " he said directly. He did not 
 move forward, but stood blinking at her like a night- 
 bird disturbed in the day. " You've kept me waiting 
 quite a while, young lady." 
 
 " Really?" she said indifferently. She stopped in 
 the middle of the room. " Well, Pasha, do you ex- 
 pect me to come to you? " 
 
 He roused himself, hastily advancing. In truth, 
 waiting for others to throw themselves at him had be- 
 come such a habit that he had not noticed the omis- 
 sion. 
 
 " Pardon me ! I was enjoying you are a de- 
 lightful picture ! " he said in his silky voice. 
 
 She accepted the evasion with an unduped smile. 
 
 " You are lucky to catch me at all," she said. " I 
 have an engagement up-town at three."
 
 98 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Do you always wear the national costume ? " he 
 said, indicating her Russian blouse. 
 
 " Yes, always." 
 
 " But my flowers, Miss Baxter? " he said, standing 
 after she had motioned him to a seat; and the glance 
 from under the prominent, hanging upper lids, that 
 half covered the irises, seemed to sift wearily down at 
 her. 
 
 " Your flowers ? What flowers ? Sit down ! " 
 
 " My orchids yesterday " 
 
 " Oh ! Your orchids." She stopped suddenly, as 
 though confused. "You won't be angry? I know 
 you won't when I tell you about it! I gave them 
 away." 
 
 He took his seat, rubbed the back of one hand with 
 long soft ringers, and slowly raised his mocking glance 
 to hers. 
 
 " Ah you gave them away? " 
 
 " Yes ! and you'll quite approve," she said, meeting 
 his inquisitorial scrutiny without confusion. " I'll tell 
 you just how it was. I have a protegee, an old 
 woman who sells newspapers under the elevated sta- 
 tion such an old woman! If I were rich I'd send 
 her off to a farm and make her happy for the rest of 
 her life ! The first day I came to New York I hadn't 
 any money. I didn't know what to do ! I sold news- 
 papers ! " 
 
 "You?" 
 
 " Yes! You didn't hear? Oh, it made quite a fuss 
 at the time ! The newspapers had it, * Mysterious So- 
 ciety Woman Sells Papers.' And I made a lot of
 
 THE SALAMANDER 99 
 
 money no change, naturally! Too bad I didn't 
 know you then ; you would have paid at least a dollar 
 a paper ! " 
 
 She laughed gaily, a little excited at the recollection. 
 
 " It was quite romantic ! Well, my old woman gave 
 me the idea. She's been my mascot ever since. 
 Every day I get my papers from her. Last night, 
 coming back after a spin, I stopped as usual. I had 
 the orchids here at my waisi ; I noticed her eying them. 
 
 " ' What are you looking at? These? ' I asked. 
 
 " She bobbed her head. She has only five teeth 
 the funniest teeth! You ought to see them; none of 
 them meet. 
 
 " ' At these flowers ? ' 
 
 " She bobbed again. 
 
 "'You like flowers?' 
 
 " Then she came up close to me the way old peo- 
 ple do, you know and said in my ear : 
 
 " ' When I was your age, my darling, I had flowers, 
 like those, every day ! ' 
 
 " And she drew back, nodding and bobbing, smiling 
 her toothless smile." 
 
 Dore stopped, pressed her hand to her throat and 
 said in a muffled voice : 
 
 " It just took me. Something came right up in my 
 throat I could have cried! I tore them off and 
 threw them in her arms. If you could have seen the 
 look she gave me ! She kissed them. Ah ! it made me 
 very happy, I can tell you! " 
 
 Did he believe her? He didn't care! Perhaps he 
 preferred that it should have been invented.
 
 ioo THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " It will mean a great deal to her," he said, his eyes 
 on hers his eyes, that began to light up as lanterns 
 showing through the fall of night. 
 
 " It will mean a great deal! " she said, with an ex- 
 pression of such beatitude that his abiding doubt be- 
 gan to waver. " I just couldn't have kept them ! " 
 
 " I want you to lunch with me to-morrow," he 
 said slowly. 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " In my apartments. They overlook the park. It's 
 quite delightful." 
 
 He watched her eagerly, for eagerness could occa- 
 sionally show on his face, as a sudden joy may recall 
 a past youth to the face of a mature woman. She con- 
 sidered thoughtfully: 
 
 "To-morrow? At what time?" 
 
 " At one," he said ; and she noticed again the curious 
 gesture of his feminine fingers sliding caressingly over 
 the back of his hand. 
 
 " One's all right. I'll be delighted to meet Mrs. 
 Sassoon." 
 
 He raised his head with an ironical smile; but the 
 smile fled as he noticed that her face was blankly seri- 
 ous. 
 
 " I don't like that! " he said abruptly. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " You know very well I am not inviting you to meet 
 my wife." 
 
 " What do you want with me, then, Mr. Sassoon ? " 
 she said calmly, looking directly at him with her 
 cloudy blue eyes of a child.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 101 
 
 He rose, nonplused, walked to the window and 
 slowly back. What was she straightforward or 
 deep ? Did she wish to come directly to a business un- 
 derstanding, or or was she truly independent and 
 seeking this method to terminate the acquaintance? 
 An instinct warned him of the danger in an answer. 
 He returned, and said, leaning on the mantelpiece : 
 
 " Bring a friend, if you wish. I'll have in the 
 Comte de Joncy. . . . You've aroused his curios- 
 ity-" 
 
 " At your private apartments ? " 
 
 "Of course!" 
 
 "No!" 
 
 " At Tenafly's, then." 
 
 " At Tenafly's down-stairs yes ! " 
 
 "A party of four?" 
 
 " No. Come to think of it, it'll be more interesting 
 just with you." 
 
 This unexpected answer, said in the most natural 
 manner imaginable, perplexed him more than ever. 
 She noticed it, quite delighted at the helplessness of the 
 experienced hunter. 
 
 " You won't lunch in a party of four at my apart- 
 ments, but you will lunch with me alone at a public 
 restaurant." 
 
 " Quite so ! " 
 
 " And your reputation? " 
 
 " It isn't a question of reputation my security ! 
 I wouldn't trust you that's all ! " 
 
 He didn't choose to discuss this, but sought to give 
 the conversation a different turn.
 
 IO2 
 
 " You are satisfied with this ? " he said, with a sud- 
 den crook of his arm. 
 
 " You are delightfully direct, aren't you? " she said. 
 " You usually don't have so much trouble coming to 
 an understanding with women, do you ? " 
 
 " No, I don't." 
 
 " Well, what do you want to know ? " 
 
 " I'm curious to see how you live your room " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " That you'll never see." 
 
 "But" 
 
 " Oh, yes, I make a difference. There are men you 
 receive in your room, and men you receive always in a 
 parlor, and there's no trouble at all in classifying 
 them!" She jumped up, with a laugh. "And you, 
 with all your experience among my sex, can't make up 
 your mind about me." 
 
 "You pay what? Eight ten fifteen a week. 
 And you have your automobile," he said, pursuing his 
 idea. 
 
 " Ah, that's it ! Have I an auto or not ? But that's 
 not what you want to know! You want to know if 
 some one gives me an automobile, and, if so, why? 
 Well, have I or haven't I? Find out! " 
 
 " You know," he said in his deliberate dragging 
 way, " I don't believe that story about the orchids ! " 
 
 " What do you mean? " she said, with such a swift 
 turn from provoking malice to erect gravity that he 
 hesitated. 
 
 " There was a hundred-dollar bill in that bouquet, 
 Miss Baxter ! " he said, changing the attack slightly.
 
 THE SAUAMANDER 103 
 
 " A hundred! " she said, drawing herself up in sur- 
 prise and scorn. "Ah ! now I understand everything. 
 So that's why you are here ! To get your value ! " 
 
 " No no," he protested, confused. 
 
 " Now I see it all ! " she continued, as if suddenly 
 enlightened. " Of course, such presents are quite in 
 order as mementoes when young ladies of the chorus 
 are entertained by you. But you weren't sure of me? 
 You wanted to know if I would take it! For, of 
 course, that would simplify things, wouldn't it?" 
 
 " Do you regret giving it away? " he said, convinced, 
 watching her with his connoisseur gaze. 
 
 She stopped. 
 
 " That is insulting ! " she said, so simply that he 
 never again recurred to the subject. " Now, Mr. Sas- 
 soon, I am going to play fair with you. I always do 
 at first. ' I am not like other girls. I do play fair. 
 I give one warning one only and then, take the ; 
 consequences ! " 
 
 " And what is your warning, pretty child? " he said, 
 with a faint echo of excitement in his voice. 
 
 ''' You will lose your time! " she said, dropping him 
 a curtsy. "You wish to know what I am? I won't 
 give you the slightest hint ! I may be a desperate ad- 
 venturess, or I may be a pretty child; but I tell you 
 frankly, now once only you had better take your 
 hat and go ! You won't ? " 
 
 He shook his head stubbornly. 
 
 11 Very well ! You will regret it ! Only, be very 
 careful what you say to me, and how you say it. Do 
 you understand ? "
 
 104 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " And you will lunch with me to-morrow ? " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Two reasons to tantalize you, and because I 
 am the most curious little body in the world ! There ! 
 That's quite frank ! " She glanced at the clock, which 
 had gone well past the hour. <r Now I must be off 
 I shall be late, as it is ! " 
 
 He glanced, in turn, at his watch. 
 
 " And I've been keeping a board of directors cursing 
 me for half an hour very important board," he said, 
 grinning at the thought of their exasperation if they 
 should be privileged to see the cause of his delay. 
 
 " Really ? " she exclaimed, delightfully flattered. 
 " Then you can keep them waiting some more ! 
 Your car's here? Very well; take me up to the Tem- 
 ple Theater, stage entrance." 
 
 It was not in his plan thus publicly to accompany 
 her. Not that he cared about his ghost of a reputa- 
 tion ! But to arrive thus at a stage entrance, dancing 
 attendance on a little Salamander, savored too much 
 of the debutant, the impressionable and gilded cub. 
 To another woman he would have refused peremp- 
 torily, with short excuse, packing her off in the auto- 
 mobile, and going on foot to his destination. But 
 with Miss Baxter he had a feeling that she would ex- 
 act it, and a fear that somehow she was waiting an 
 excuse to slip from him, a fear of losing her. 
 
 " I am waiting ! " she said impatiently. 
 
 "What for?" he asked, coming abruptly out of his 
 abstraction.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 105 
 
 " For you to hand me in, Pasha ! " 
 
 He gave her his hand hurriedly, capitulated and 
 took his seat in turn. She guessed his reasons, and 
 watched him mockingly, sunk in her corner. The 
 melancholy and the weakness of yesterday were gone ; 
 she was again the gay little Salamander, audacious 
 
 ^ 
 
 and reckless, sublimely confident in the reserves of her 
 imagination to extricate her from any peril. 
 
 " The warning holds until to-morrow morning," 
 she said, her eyes sparkling, the mood dramatized in 
 every eager and malicious expression. 
 
 He did not answer, aroused and retreating by turns, 
 uncomfortable, irritated and yet resolved. Had 
 Dore known the fires she had kindled and the ends to 
 which he was capable of going, perhaps she would not 
 have felt so audaciously triumphant. 
 
 As they swung from Broadway into the crowded, 
 narrow side street, quite a group was before the en- 
 trance a knot of stage-hands loafing outside for 
 a smoke, Blainey himself in conversation with an 
 actress who was speaking to him from another auto- 
 mobile, and three or four of the personnel of the thea- 
 ter awaiting the arrival of the manager. 
 
 She forced Sassoon to descend and hand her down 
 Sassoon rebelling at being thus paraded and recog- 
 nized. Then, with a fractional nod, she went through 
 the group. All at once some one, making way for 
 her, lifted his hat. She looked up and recognized the 
 one man she did not wish to see her thus in Sassoon's 
 company: Judge Massingale, smiling his impersonal, 
 tolerantly amused smile.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 WHEN she had passed the familiar limping fig- 
 ure of the guardian of the stage door, and had 
 caught the sound of the helter-skelter preparations be- 
 hind the curtains the ring of hammers, the hoarse 
 shouts into the rafters, the green-and-gold filmy sheen 
 of the scenery, the groups in costume, chattering in 
 the wings, the busy black-hatted, coatless stage-hands 
 tearing about Dore felt that tingling of the nerves 
 that comes to the crutched veteran when the regiment 
 passes. She adored this life with a keen excited zest. 
 Its unrealities were vitally real, its Lilliputian sultans 
 and pashas great potentates. She adored it but 
 she was not yet decided. To have been certain of 
 succeeding would have seemed to her the fullest of 
 life; but she was not so blinded by the dazzling light 
 of success as not to perceive clearly the barrenness of 
 its mediocrity and the horror of its failure. 
 
 She passed into the theater, which seemed to 
 swallow her up in its impenetrable embrace. She 
 stood a moment, peering into the darkness, seeing 
 only a great red eye above, ghostly draperies in the 
 galleries, and in the mysterious catacombs below a 
 vague flitting figure stumbling to a seat. Then, her 
 eyes growing accustomed to the obscurity, she put 
 
 106
 
 THE SALAMANDER 107 
 
 out her hand and felt her way along the empty seats, 
 with their damp musty shrouds. 
 
 The curtain was up on the set for the first act, 
 which had been ended ten minutes before. They had 
 been rehearsing since noon; the probabilities were 
 they would continue long past midnight. On the 
 stage, O'Reilly of the " props " was swearing hoarsely 
 at the calcium light in the ceilings, throwing on reds 
 and blues with a rapid succession that blinded the 
 eyes. Baum was cursing the scene-shifters, cjamor- 
 ing for more verdure. Trimble, the stage-manager, 
 was in the center of the stage, rearranging a scene 
 with the soubrette and the heavy comic. In the house 
 itself, back of the orchestra, in the dim lobby with 
 its dungeon reflections from the street, the chorus 
 girls and men were busily rehearsing a new step that 
 had just been given them, humming as they balanced 
 on their toes, took hands and twined about their part- 
 ners, who, with a final twirl, sank on their knees to 
 receive them. As the step was complicated, every- 
 where murmurs of expostulation and protest were 
 heard : 
 
 " Stupid ! Not that way ! " 
 
 " One, two one, two one, two, three ! " 
 
 " Catch me." 
 
 "No! I go first." 
 
 " Gee ! what an ice- wagon ! " 
 
 "To the left, I told ye!" 
 
 Dodo, dodging swaying bodies and arms extended 
 in swimming gestures, found the center aisle, and her 
 eyes acquiring more vision, began to explore the ob-
 
 io8 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 scurities. Above the orchestra, Felix Brangstar, his 
 head crowned with a slouch hat, stripped to shirt and 
 crossed pink suspenders, angry, hot and on edge, was 
 screaming to the flutes orders to transpose certain 
 measures. O'Reilly continued to shout: 
 
 " Blind that ! Throw on the whites. Damn you, 
 will you throw on your whites? Hold that!" 
 
 Trimble, on the stage, was taking the part of the 
 soubrette, skipping about the heavy comic, coquetting 
 and dodging under his arm, while the air was charged 
 with electric comments: 
 
 " Lower away ! More more ! " 
 
 " Is Blainey here yet? " 
 
 "Where's Benton?" 
 
 "Switch that table over!" 
 
 " Throw on your borders ! " 
 
 " B flat, then the chord of A." 
 
 " That's cut out. Yes yes! " 
 
 " Try that curtain again." 
 
 " Bring it down slow. No ! God ! Carey, do you 
 call that slow? Again!" 
 
 The piece was a truly fairy-like creation of a modern 
 Offenbach, romantic in libretto, distinguished and deli- 
 cate in music, a true operetta of the sort that ten 
 years from now will take its just place as a work of 
 art, no longer subject to the mutilations and humilia- 
 tions that now attend such Americanizations into the 
 loosely tied vaudeville numbers justly termed comic 
 opera. 
 
 At this moment some one touched Dore on the arm, 
 and looking up, she beheld Roderigo Sanderson. In
 
 THE SALAMANDER 109 
 
 the shadow she perceived nothing but the flash of a 
 diamond stick-pin and the white sheen of his collar, 
 while an odor of perfume distilled itself from the 
 handkerchief he wore in his sleeve and the heavy 
 curls on his forehead. 
 
 "You here?" 
 
 " T. B. wants to see me," he answered, giving 
 Blainey, with the American passion for intimacy, 
 the initials under which he was known from one end 
 of the Rialto to the other. He took a seat back of 
 her, leaning over her shoulder, speaking in a guarded 
 tone in the mezzo-Anglican accent which he had al- 
 most acquired. 
 
 " It's uncommon good, you know. Saw it in 
 Vienna. A gem! Trimble has really staged it jolly 
 well. Sada Quichy they've imported her, you 
 know really knows a bit about singing as well as 
 dancing. If they'd put it on as it is now, it would 
 go big by jove, it would be a revolution! But they 
 won't. The slaughter-house gets a chance at it to- 
 day. You'll see what's left after T. B. gets his meat- 
 ax into it ! " 
 
 "Who's in the stage-box?" said Dore curiously. 
 
 ' The silent partners," said Sanderson, with a 
 laugh. " Look at the brutes ! They're in a fog in 
 a panic! They already see their money flowing in a 
 gutter. Never mind! they'll get a bit more cheery 
 when T. B. begins his popularizing. It'll be quite 
 amusing. I always get to these executions. It's a 
 brutal appetite, but it sort of consoles one, you know ! " 
 
 In the box, the silent partners, Guntz, Borgfeldt
 
 no THE SALAMANDER 
 
 and Keppelman, suddenly enriched commission agents 
 from the Central West, new to the dishabille of the 
 theater, sat motionless, three black, ill-smelling cigars 
 on parade, three enormous bodies, tortured by tight 
 collars, tight vests, tight chairs, each derby set over 
 one ear to shade the fat folds of the jowled head. 
 Sanderson had made no mistake: the exquisite and 
 melodious first act had left them absolutely petrified 
 with horror. 
 
 Sanderson, au courant, continued his exposition 
 after a preparatory glance around the stalls. 
 
 " They say they've made millions. How the deuce 
 did L. and B." (the theatrical firm of Lipswitch and 
 Berger) "ever entice them into it? They say they're 
 back of the firm for a third in everything! I'd give 
 a good deal, now, to see the contract those bandits 
 drew up for mutual protection! Jove! that would be 
 a curiosity ! " 
 
 At that moment, when the stage was in a bedlam, 
 with the cross-fire of the stage-manager coaxing on 
 the soubrette, Brangstar furiously reprimanding the 
 little polyglot tenor, who sang of " lof," and was in- 
 sufferably pleased with his slender legs, Baum moving 
 indifferently in the confusion, giving ideas for the 
 readjustment of the ravine and the bridge, O'Reilly 
 darkening the blue lights to try the effect of dawn, 
 despite the complaints of the dressmaker, who was 
 defending her costumes and endeavoring to save the 
 hussar boots of the chorus girls by a bolder rearrange- 
 ment of the draperies in the midst of this inferno,
 
 THE SALAMANDER in 
 
 Blarney came shouldering in, the reverberations of his 
 deep bass stilling the uproar. 
 
 "First act, now. Get at it! Don't bring me in 
 here, O'Reilly, for a rehearsal on lights. Ring down 
 your curtain. Gus, want to hear that overture! 
 Let's get at it, boys ! " 
 
 " All on stage for first curtain ! " 
 
 Instantly there was a scurrying of the chorus from 
 the lobby down the stage aisle; the dressmaker went 
 hurriedly over the footlights, via a box; the curtain 
 slowly settled; Brangstar climbed to his chair; and 
 the voice of O'Reilly floated out in a final curse at 
 the calcium lights. 
 
 " Blind your blues and clear slow. Pete, bring it 
 on slow this time! Do you get me? Do you get 
 me?" 
 
 And from above, the voice of the labor union, un- 
 ruffled, neither to be coaxed nor driven, came im- 
 pudently down: 
 
 "Sure I get you!" 
 
 " Overture, now. Then go through the first act. 
 No stops ! " said Blainey, lumbering up the aisle. 
 
 Against the firefly lights of the orchestra his figure 
 showed like a great barrel, short legs and short arms, 
 with the sense of brute power in the blocked head 
 sunk in the shoulders. He came to where they sat, 
 shading his eyes. Sanderson stood up abruptly, at 
 attention. 
 
 " Hello, kid ! " he said, perceiving Dore. 
 
 "Hello, Blainey!"
 
 ii2 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " See you after first act," he said, leaning over the 
 chairs until they groaned, to take her hand in his 
 enveloping grasp. " Who's that with you the 
 judge? Oh, Sanderson! What are you oh, yes, 
 I remember. Judge, glad you came; I want your 
 opinion ! " 
 
 At this moment Massingale came down from the 
 lobby and took a seat beside Dore, while Blainey, re- 
 adjusting his soft black, broad-brimmed hat with a 
 nervous revolving motion, sauntered on, impatient 
 at the scraping of the violins and the preparatory 
 pumping of the horns. Sanderson, at a nod from 
 Blainey, had followed him into the lobby. 
 
 "Surprised to see me here?" said Massingale, tak- 
 ing his seat. " You know, I turn up everywhere. 
 I'm one of those who circulate. I came with Sada 
 Quichy she's great fun ! " 
 
 In fact, in New York three classes are privileged 
 at every door privileged because they have the 
 power to make themselves feared : the politician in 
 office; the representative of the press; and the judge 
 who, at a word, can unloose the terrors of both the 
 others. 
 
 " Don't forget what you told me yesterday," she 
 said, turning to him directly, haunted by the malice 
 in his eyes when he had seen her handed down from 
 Sassoon's automobile. 
 
 "What did I tell you?" 
 
 " That you would not misunderstand me ! " 
 
 " I don't ! " he said, after an ineffectual attempt to
 
 THE SALAMANDER 113 
 
 see her face. " But are you strong enough to play 
 the game you are playing? " 
 
 "Sassoon?" 
 
 "Yes, Sassoon!" 
 
 She thought of him, ruffled and rebellious, forced 
 to accompany her to the stage entrance. She held 
 him in slight respect. 
 
 " Pooh ! Sassoon ! " She had a feeling that this 
 man already had her confidence, that she could talk 
 freely with him. " Harrigan Blood, yes ; but not Sas- 
 soon ! " 
 
 " You are wrong about Sassoon," he said quietly. 
 " It is not the clever man that is difficult to manage ; 
 it is the relentless one ! That's Sassoon ! " 
 
 " Did you call yesterday to warn me? " she said, 
 turning to him. 
 
 " ISJo; moralizing is not my forte," he said, shaking 
 his head. " You are unusual. I should like to watch 
 your progress ! " 
 
 " You like to be behind the scenes ? " 
 
 "Adore it!" 
 
 " I wonder just what you think of me," she said 
 pensively. " Have you decided what I am to be- 
 come ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 She looked up, startled. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Oh, not now later ; some time when we can 
 really talk." 
 
 She wished him to invite her, but he was one of
 
 114 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 those who had the rare instinct of making women be- 
 lieve they were pursuing him. She was silent, think- 
 ing, too, of Sada Quichy, doubly resolved to steal 
 him from her. 
 
 " Very well," she said suddenly ; " we'll dine to- 
 gether. They'll go on here till midnight. We can 
 bring back some sandwiches and cold chicken for the 
 prima donna." But, in her mind, she was resolved 
 that, once they were at dinner, she would carry him 
 off boldly, Sada Quichy or not. 
 
 " Splendid ! " he said laconically, and prepared him- 
 self for the overture, that was being announced by a 
 vigorous lashing of the conductor's stand. 
 
 Blainey had settled his body a short way in front 
 of them, ears pricked for the commercially vital waltz 
 motif. 
 
 But in the present overture this essential did not 
 at once appear. The operetta, which had been given 
 the name of The Red Prince, was a fantastic romance 
 of Hungary, strangely endowed with an intelligible 
 plot, and this fresh presentation of wild dancing mel- 
 odies, passionate strains of melancholy and yearning, 
 abandoned delight and fierce exultation, was summar- 
 ized in the overture. 
 
 Massingale, who was an amateur of music, bent 
 forward, breathing full, murmuring his approbation. 
 Dore too felt strangely lifted from herself, leaping 
 along perilous heights, striving with invisible windy 
 shapes, that caught her and whirled her, with closed 
 eyes and bated lips, in giddy whirlpools or sudden lan- 
 guorous calms. All the instincts that yesterday, in
 
 THE SALAMANDER 115 
 
 the change of the year, had vibrated to melancholy, 
 now suddenly seemed to awake with the sufficiency 
 of the instant. A fig for the future! She had a 
 need of the present, of the day, of the hour, gloriously, 
 deliciously stirred from blank realities. Her breath 
 came quick, the little nostrils quivered, and glancing 
 at Massingale's aristocratic forehead and jaw, she 
 found him more than interesting strong, virile, fas- 
 cinating in the chained-up impulses which a sudden 
 wild burst of the czardas brought glowing to his eyes. 
 
 The overture ceased amid a murmur of approba- 
 tion; she moved a little way from the shoulder she 
 had instinctively approached. 
 
 " Take up that waltz again," said Blainey instantly. 
 
 Brangstar, as if warned of what was coming, re- 
 belliously gave the signal. The motif occurred in 
 the middle of the overture, directly after the czardas. 
 It was a tum-ti-tum but undeniably catchy affair. 
 
 " Stop there ! " Blainey rose and moved into the 
 aisle. " Cut out all that follows. No grand opera 
 stuff we don't want it! End with that waltz. 
 Fake it. Play it once pianissimo, fiddles ; second time 
 louder bring in your horns. Then let go with your 
 brass. Cut loose. Soak it to 'em! Start it up, 
 Gus!" 
 
 Brangstar, who had given three fretful weeks to 
 this beloved production, musician at heart, loathing 
 his servitude to Mammon, seeing in the present work 
 of art his opportunity to emerge, to do the true, the 
 big thing, raised his fists in horror. He had either 
 to burst into tears or swear. Swear he did, damning
 
 ii6 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 Blainey, Lipswitch, the whole gang of Pharisees and 
 infidels he served, calling them every name his rage 
 flung to his lips, vowing he never would be a party 
 to such an atrocity. 
 
 Blainey, composed, allowed him to vent his fury, 
 rather admiring his manner. Brangstar was a valuable 
 man, a blooded race-horse harnessed to a delivery- 
 wagon. 
 
 ' You know your music, Gus ; I know my public ! " 
 he said finally. " What's going to make this opera 
 is just one thing what you can get under the skin of 
 your audience! We'll soak that waltz at 'em until 
 every mother's son of them goes out whistling it 
 till the whole town whistles it! That's success, and 
 I know it, and you know it ! Now, get at it ! " 
 
 When the overture had been repeated as he had 
 ordered, Guntz, Borgfeldt and Keppelman began to 
 warm up and to slap one another with delight, while 
 from the recesses of the theater the shrill whistle of 
 the ushers was heard continuing the catchy: 
 
 " Tum-ti-tum-ti, 
 Tum-ti-tum-ti,, 
 Tum-tum-tum ! " 
 
 Blainey, not insensible to dramatic effects, indi- 
 cated the box, where joy now reigned, pursed his 
 lips and nodded knowingly to Massingale. 
 
 The execution continued in the first act. The waltz 
 appeared only in the third. Blainey put it forward 
 into the first, arranged for the comics to give a light 
 twist to it in the second, and built it up again in the
 
 THE SALAMANDER 117 
 
 third, with all the resources of the chorus and re- 
 peated encores. 
 
 At each moment he stopped the progress of the 
 act: 
 
 "Too pretty, pretty! Never go! Cut it!" 
 
 " Throw in some gags, there." 
 
 "Rush it rush it!" 
 
 " Explode something, there." 
 
 " Trimble, got to get your chorus in here. Rush 
 'em in!" 
 
 " Oh, that's enough atmosphere ! " 
 
 " The public wants dancing! " 
 
 " All right! Strike for the second act! " 
 
 The curtain rolled down and up, and the scene- 
 shifters flung themselves on the ravine. Brangstar 
 went out to a saloon, strewing curses; Guntz, Borg- 
 feldt and Keppelman followed to celebrate; and 
 Blainey, moving up to Massingale, said, with a shrewd 
 twinkle : 
 
 "Well, Judge, how do you like the first act?" 
 
 " Tim, if I had you before me I'd send you up for 
 ten years ! " 
 
 " Not if you had your money behind it, you' 
 wouldn't," said Blainey good-humoredly. " Art be 
 damned. I'm here to make money yes, as every 
 one else is, in this town! I know what the public 
 wants, and I soak it to 'em. Why, this show wouldn't 
 run six nights on a South Troy circuit ! " 
 
 At this moment some one whispered to him that 
 Sada Quichy was in hysterics. 
 
 " What's the matter with Sadie, anyhow ? " said
 
 n8 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 Blainey, shrugging his shoulders. " What's she kick- 
 ing about? She gets twenty weeks, whether we 
 smash or not. I say, Judge, go and jolly her up a 
 bit. Tell her she's got a grand part! I want to talk 
 business with this little girl." 
 
 And without concerning himself further, he led 
 the way to his private office. 
 
 Dore followed quietly. During the last two hours 
 she had been balancing on various emotions. The 
 first glamour of the intoxicating overture had been 
 shattered. She looked on with sober eyes at this 
 spectacle of the theater reduced to its materialistic 
 verities. She was too imaginative not to perceive the 
 outrages committed in the name of the box-office, and 
 too keen not to credit Blainey's logic. The fat idol- 
 like figures of Guntz, Borgfeldt and Keppelman were 
 realities, too; she would have to deal with that type, 
 too many of that type if she chose to continue. 
 And she had remained in long periods of absorption, 
 scarcely hearing the remarks Massingale whispered 
 to her, wondering, trying to see into the future, ask- 
 ing herself if this were to be the solution, and, if it 
 were, how to play it. Musing thus, she continued 
 to watch Blainey closely, wondering. Blainey and 
 Harrigan Blood were of the same tribe; they could 
 not be fed on sugar-plums! 
 
 The office was a comfortable, pleasantly lighted 
 room, in the greatest disorder possible. Blainey swept 
 aside a litter of papers, and sank into a huge uphol- 
 stered chair, studying Dore, who vaulted to a seat 
 on the desk.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 119 
 
 Seen in the daylight, his head seemed to have been 
 scraped and roughened by the long buffeting of ad- 
 versity and the rough passage upward. The ears 
 that leaped from the solid head, the sharp pointed 
 nose with large nostrils, the wide mouth of a great 
 fish, the shaggy brows and eyes of the fighter, the 
 thin gray cockatoo rise of hair on the forehead as if 
 grasped by an invisible hand all had about them 
 the signs of the battler, whose defiant motto might 
 appropriately have been : " Don't bump me ! " 
 
 Blainey glanced at half a dozen telegrams, news 
 from productions scattered over the country, and 
 raised his glance again. 
 
 14 You're not mixed up with Roderigo Sanderson, 
 are you? " 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 She had taken off her fur toque with a charming 
 gesture of intimacy, and was arranging her hair in 
 the opposite mirror, her feet swinging merrily. 
 
 " Sanderson." 
 
 " Did you see who brought me here ? " she said im- 
 pertinently. The answer saved the actor an engage- 
 ment. With Blainey she assumed always the disdain 
 of a woman of the world. 
 
 " Don't get mixed up with actors," he persisted, a 
 note of jealousy in his voice. " Steer clear ! " 
 
 " Managers are safer, you mean ! " she said, laugh- 
 ing at him. 
 
 That was not his meaning, but he continued: 
 
 " I don't have to tell you much, do I, kid ? " 
 
 "Not much, Blainey."
 
 520 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " That was Sassoon with you, eh ? " 
 
 " Albert Edward himself, Blainey," she answered, 
 with an accented note of pride. She knew the man 
 she was dealing with. Brutal and contemptuous to 
 innocence, but bowing down with a sneaking admira- 
 tion to the woman who played the game and won out, 
 not for a moment did he doubt that she was of the 
 shrewdest and the most unprincipled. And this con- 
 viction stood like a shield before her in this room 
 where other women had gone in with a shrug. 
 
 "Sassoon, eh?" he said admiringly, and he gave 
 vent to a long whistle. " Well, trim 'em, kid, trim 
 'em!" 
 
 " That's what I'm doing, Blainey, and the finest ! " 
 
 She took his accents, almost the contemptuous 
 abruptness of his gestures, transforming herself into 
 his world. 
 
 " When are you going to get tired of all that? " he 
 said, his eyes narrowing covetously. " It's a short 
 game. This is longer, safer." 
 
 "When? Pretty soon, Blainey." 
 
 "Why not now?" 
 
 She shook her head, laughing. 
 
 " Too soon too soon ! " 
 
 He reached over into a drawer and drew out a play. 
 
 " Do you see this? I'm keeping this for you!" 
 
 She opened her eyes. 
 
 "Forme?" 
 
 " There's a fortune in it. There's a scene there " 
 he swore appreciatively " it's all in a scene, a trick ;
 
 THE SALAMANDER 121 
 
 but it's a winner. And I'm holding that for you, 
 kid." 
 
 " Star me ? " she said, laughing incredulously. 
 
 " In the third year yes ! " 
 
 " Come, now, Blainey, I'm no fool. I'm not that 
 strong on acting! " 
 
 "Acting be damned. Personality!" he said, 
 slapping the table. " You've got me you can get 
 them!" 
 
 "Have I got you, Blainey?" she said, looking at 
 him boldly. 
 
 " You got me from the first with your impudent 
 way," he said abruptly. " I'm interested in you, kid 
 
 particularly interested! You understand what I 
 mean? " 
 
 " It's not hard to understand you, T. B." 
 " I'll put you on Broadway in two years," he said. 
 Then, bubbling over with enthusiasm, he took up the 
 role again. " God ! there's a scene here that'll get 
 'em won't be a dry handkerchief in the house ! " 
 He continued, his face lighting up with sentiment, 
 for scenes of virtue triumphant, virtue resisting, 
 virtue rewarded, genuinely moved him on the stage : 
 " End of second act, the girl learns she's an intruder 
 
 not Lady Marjorie, heiress to millions, but a waif, 
 substituted, see? It's a lie, of course; all works out 
 well in the last act; but you don't know that. She's 
 got an exit there beats anything in Camill! Runs 
 away, see? Leaves everything jewels, clothes, 
 money, nothing belongs to her.
 
 122 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Proud that's the idea ; won't take a thing 
 nothing! Just as she's rushing out, sees a cat, a 
 damned, bobtailed, battered old kitten she's picked off 
 the streets, saved from a gang of ruffians in first act. 
 That's hers; in that great gorgeous palace think of 
 it all that is hers all she's a right to. Runs back, 
 grabs it, hugs it to her breast, and goes out! What 
 a chance! There's millions in that cat! I saw it. 
 The play was rotten, but the cat was there! That's 
 the kind of stuff that gets over, chokes you up, blinds 
 you ! I know it I'd risk a fortune on it ! " 
 
 " Sounds good ! " she said, nodding, amazed at this 
 other side in him, not yet comprehending inconsist- 
 encies in human nature. 
 
 He was off in raptures again, insisting on reading 
 the final pages. She listened without hearing, at- 
 tracted and repulsed, turn about, by the man. When 
 he had come to earth again, she said : 
 
 " Blainey, I'm going to send a girl around to you 
 for that part you offered me." 
 
 " No, you're not ! Work others," he said, with a 
 snap. " Trim 'em, but don't work me ! I don't go 
 in for charity ! " 
 
 " Who said anything about charity? " she answered, 
 knowing the impracticability of such an appeal. 
 " I'm sending you some one who can act Winona 
 Horning, and a beauty ! She was going to take a part 
 in one of Zeller's productions, and I told her to hold 
 off until you saw her. She's a friend, and I don't 
 want her to lose time with Zeller ! " 
 
 "You won't take it yourself?"
 
 THE SALAMANDER 123 
 
 " Not now ! Besides, when I get ready, you're 
 going to place me in a good stock company first. 
 Look out, Blainey," she added, laughing; "if I turn 
 serious, it'll be frightful ! " 
 
 He began, delighted, to sketch for her the course 
 she should take, seeking to convince her of her talents, 
 unfolding to her the methods he would employ. She 
 kept her eyes on his, but she did not hear a word. 
 The feeling of the place possessed her; she could not 
 shake it off. She felt already caught. 
 
 In reality, her reckless assumption of this part was 
 simply a trying out of herself, an attempt to project 
 herself into the future, to explore with the eye where 
 the feet must tread. Not that a career was within her 
 serious intentions. She retreated from coarseness, 
 drawing her delicate skirts about her; yet it amused 
 her thus to dramatize herself! So, while one Dodo 
 was audaciously playing at acting, another Dodo was 
 coldly placing questions before herself. 
 
 "Would it be possible? Could I ever? Would it 
 be worth while ? And Blainey what would that 
 mean ? " 
 
 Then, as he turned in the glare from the window, 
 she noticed his vest. It was a brown upholstered 
 vest with purple sofa buttons. Her reverie centered 
 on those buttons, counting them, running them up and 
 down; and a curious idea came to her. If by any 
 chance she should go on with a career, she certainly 
 would have to make him change that vest! 
 
 The idea of a manager, a manager devoted to her, 
 wearing a brown upholstered vest with purple sofa
 
 124 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 buttons, offended her horribly more than other pos- 
 sibilities which did not stare her in the face. When 
 she went off with Massingale, after the second act, 
 for a hasty bite, he said to her: 
 
 "Why so solemn?" 
 
 She was still counting over that double line of pur- 
 ple sofa buttons.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THEY took their supper in a near-by oyster 
 house, invaded by a chattering throng, 
 drummed over by an indefatigable orchestra. She 
 had looked forward keenly to the tete-a-tete. She 
 was terribly disillusioned. It was not at all excit- 
 ing. Conversation was impossible, and what they said 
 was meaningless. She became irritable and restless, 
 for she had a feeling that she was being defrauded 
 that this man was not like the rest, that he was 
 one worth knowing, drawing out, an adversary who 
 would compel her to utilize all the light volatile ar- 
 tillery of her audacious imagination. 
 
 " Listen," she broke out suddenly, " this is a hor- 
 rible failure. I really want to talk to you! Have 
 you seen enough of the rehearsal?" 
 
 "Plenty!" 
 
 " Let's cut it, then ! " 
 
 " Madame Quichy would never forgive me ! " 
 
 She was silent a moment, rebuffed. 
 
 " I'm out of sorts. You can at least take me 
 home!" 
 
 "Certainly!" 
 
 Arrived at the house, she said reluctantly: 
 
 " Well, come in for just a moment! " 
 
 And the parlor being occupied, they went to her 
 room. 
 
 125
 
 126 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Is Your Honor really going to spare me ten 
 minutes from the fascinating Sada Ouichy? " she said, 
 pouting, once arrived. 
 
 "Ten hours, if you like!" he said, taking off his 
 coat with a gesture of finality. 
 
 She was so delighted at this unhoped-for treason 
 that she clapped her hands like a child, not perceiving 
 how he had made her ask each time for what he really 
 wanted. 
 
 "You're really going to stay?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed!" 
 
 " How exciting! " 
 
 She let her coat slip into his hands, and going to 
 the mirror, raised her hat slowly from her rebellious 
 golden curls with one of those indescribable, intimate, 
 feminine gestures that have such allurement to the 
 gaze of men. If, with Blainey, she had resorted to 
 abrupt and dashing ways, with Massingale she felt 
 herself wholly feminine, sure that each turn of her 
 head, line of her body, or caressing movement of her 
 arms w r ould find appreciation. 
 
 She looked at him a moment over her shoulder, 
 arching her eyebrows with eyes that seemed brim- 
 ming with caprice. 
 
 " You know, I was quite determined you should 
 come!" she said, laughing, and with a sudden swift 
 passage of the room, she darted on the sofa, curling 
 her legs under her, hugging her knees, and resting her 
 little chin on them in elfish amusement. " Honor 
 bright ! Made up my mind there in the theater ! " 
 
 "So did I!" he said frankly.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 127 
 
 " Really? And Sada Quichy? " 
 
 " She is a known quantity ! It's much more amus- 
 ing gambling with possibilities ! " 
 
 Since taking her coat he had remained standing, 
 examining the room with a keen instinct for signifi- 
 cant details. 
 
 "Two beds?" 
 
 " This is Snyder's," she said, patting it. " She's re- 
 hearsing. Won't be home till late." 
 
 Without asking her permission, he moved about 
 curiously, smiling at the trunks which stood open, and 
 the bureaus with their gaping drawers. 
 
 "Heavens! everything is in an awful mess!" she 
 said, with a little ejaculation. 
 
 " Don't change it. I like it ! It looks real ! " he 
 said, continuing. 
 
 She allowed him to pry into corners, watching him 
 from the soft depths of the couch, a little languid from 
 the varied emotions of the day, longing to be rid of 
 the stiff pumps and the fatigue of her day dress. The 
 different dramatizations she had indulged in with 
 Peavey, Sassoon and Blainey had aroused her crav- 
 ing for sudden transpositions. If only this should 
 not prove disappointing! She felt an exhilarated 
 curiosity, more stirred than ever before. Did he really 
 know her, divine her, as she believed? How would 
 he act ? Was he only mentally curious, or was that a 
 clever mask for a more personal interest ? She had a 
 feeling that she had known him for years, that all they 
 could say had been said again and again. 
 
 He was young at forty-five, and yet already gray.
 
 128 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 She liked that. Youth and gray hair, she thought, 
 were distinguished in a judge. There was an air of 
 authority about him that imposed on her. He did not 
 ask permission for what he did, and yet it carried no 
 offense. He was dressed perfectly, and that counted 
 for much with her so perfectly that she did not 
 even notice what he wore, except that the tones were 
 soft and gave her a sensation of pleasure, and that 
 the cut was irreproachable. 
 
 All the accent lay about the eyes and the fine mold- 
 ings of the forehead. The eyes were deep, hidden 
 under the brows, Bismarckian in their set, and not so 
 calm, after all, she thought. She found herself study- 
 ing the lines of his mouth, strong and yet susceptible. 
 And as she studied the characteristic mockery of his 
 smile, that smile which gave him the appearance of 
 one who projects above the crowd and sees beyond 
 the serried heads, it did not seem so much the man 
 himself as an attitude carefully assumed against the 
 world. Was there a drama back of it all? At any 
 rate, her curiosity awaking her zest, she began to 
 wonder what he would be like in anger that is, if 
 anything could move him to anger, or to anything 
 else! This last provocative thought aroused the 
 danger-defying little devil within her. The languor 
 vanished; she felt swiftly, aggressively alert. 
 
 " And this is where we say our prayers," he said, 
 pointing to the white bed. 
 
 " Every night ! " she answered promptly. 
 
 " Really? " he said, raising his eyebrows.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 129 
 
 " Every night," she repeated, " I throw myself on 
 my knees and cry, all in a breath : 
 
 " ' O Lord ! give me everything I want ! ' Then I 
 dive into bed, and pull the covers over my head ! " 
 
 " H'm ! " he said, his chin in his hand, looking down 
 at her as she rocked in laughter on the couch. " After 
 all, that's what a prayer is, isn't it?" 
 
 "I think so. Oh!" 
 
 Suddenly on the floor, tipping from the edge of 
 the couch, her pumps fell with a crash. She had 
 slipped them off surreptitiously, concealing the opera- 
 tion with her skirts. She sprang on the rug in her 
 green stocking feet, snatching up the indiscreet pumps, 
 and retreating to the closet, but without confusion. 
 
 " What are you doing now? " she said, bobbing out 
 suddenly. 
 
 He was standing by the chrysanthemums, reaching 
 up. 
 
 " I was wondering if they were real." 
 
 " Imitation ? " 
 
 " You don't know that trick," he said maliciously. 
 "A great invention of one girl I knew. You ought 
 to know it! She had three vases, chrysanthemums, 
 roses, violets, all imitation. She said they were the 
 only flowers she cared for; so, when orders came in, 
 all the florist did was to telephone the amount he 
 would credit to her account ! " 
 
 " Was the florist Pouffe ? " asked Dore, stopping 
 short and laughing. 
 
 " One of them. But the real touch was when the
 
 130 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 admirer called. She would place the vase of roses, 
 say, on the mantel, out of reach, naturally, blow 
 a special perfume in the room, and say: 
 
 " ' My ! how wonderfully fragrant those roses 
 are!'" 
 
 Dore felt divined; she laughed, conscious of a tell- 
 tale color. 
 
 " Really, Your Honor, you know entirely too 
 much!" 
 
 " I adore the little wretches and their games ! " 
 he said frankly. " I'm always on their side ! " 
 
 " You don't adore anything ! You couldn't ! " 
 
 She had stopped before him, looking up at him with 
 her blue eyes, which were no longer cloudy but 
 sparkling with provocation. 
 
 " You read character, too," he answered, smiling 
 impersonally. " It's true it's safer and more amus- 
 ing ! Let me behind the scenes. I like it that's all 
 I ask!" 
 
 "All?" 
 
 " Quite all ! " he said dryly. Then : " What are 
 you going to do with Sassoon and Harrigan Blood ? " 
 
 He asked the question without preparation, to throw 
 her off her guard, but she avoided it by asking an- 
 other. 
 
 " Are you really just looking on?" she said, draw- 
 ing her eyebrows together. "Only curious?" 
 
 " It's as I told you," he said. " You see how I am 
 here. Can't you tell ? " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " I can't tell ; I can't tell anything about you ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 131 
 
 " You were not very nice to me at the luncheon ! " 
 he said irrelevantly. 
 
 "I know it!" 
 
 " You would hardly speak to me! " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Shall I tell you ? Because because you are too 
 strong for me ! " she said solemnly, her eyes growing 
 curiously round and large. 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " Now, Miss Mischief, that's too evident ! " 
 
 " It's true ! I felt it from the start," she said 
 simply. " Sit down." 
 
 He credited her with being deeper than he had be- 
 lieved, whereas she had only obeyed an impulse. 
 
 "Is Blainey a possibility too?" he asked suddenly. 
 
 " What ! he has guessed even Blainey? " she thought, 
 startled ; but, as she began an evasive answer, satisfied, 
 he turned to a trunk, closed it and installed himself, 
 folding his arms. 
 
 " I'll tell you what I am going to do with Sassoon 
 and Blood," she said suddenly. She had camped on 
 another trunk, swinging one little foot incased within 
 a red slipper, ten feet of the faded rug between them. 
 " I am going to make oh, a lot of trouble ! " 
 
 " You've started it already ! " 
 
 "Tell me was there really a terrible row?" she 
 asked, clapping her hands eagerly. " All over little 
 me?" 
 
 " H'm, yes rather ! We had some difficulty in 
 stopping it ! " He looked at her, amused, with the
 
 I 3 2 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 gaze of one who appreciates the irony of values. " Do 
 you know, you pretty little atom, that you are set- 
 ting in motion forces that may shake millions ? " 
 
 "Oh, how lovely! Tell me!" 
 
 " Perhaps I'd better not ! " he said grimly. " And 
 suppose I told you that if you made Sassoon and Blood 
 enemies over your charming little person, that Blood 
 is capable of turning all the force of his newspapers 
 against the Sassoon interests, making ugly revela- 
 tions and bringing on a mild panic, would you per- 
 sist?" 
 
 " Certainly I should ! " she exclaimed enthusias- 
 tically. 
 
 " So is history made ! " he thought to himself. 
 " Now, answer me honestly." 
 
 ''Well?" 
 
 " Don't you ever feel any temptation - 
 
 " With Sassoon money ? " 
 
 He put out his arm in a gesture that swept the 
 room. 
 
 " You are satisfied with this ? " 
 
 " Do you know, that's just what he asked the 
 very words ! " 
 
 " Yes ; Sassoon would be pretty sure to ask that. 
 And you are never tempted ? " 
 
 " I thought you knew us ! " she said proudly. 
 " You don't no, you don't understand at all ! or 
 you wouldn't have asked that question ! " But, not 
 yet ready to talk, wishing to put a score of questions 
 to him, she changed abruptly : "So, Your Honor, 
 you are just curious about me?"
 
 THE SALAMANDER 133 
 
 " I am very curious ! " he said, looking at her 
 with a touch of his magisterial manner. " It's a queer 
 game you are playing!" 
 
 "It's such fun!" 
 
 "Yes," he said, unbending; "it is fun; but what's 
 going to come of it ? " 
 
 She flung out her arms. 
 
 " Quien sdbe!" 
 
 " I wonder what is the answer," he said, with a 
 touch of solemnity. " There are so many possible 
 answers ! " 
 
 " Oh, now, Your Honor," she said, with a pouting 
 look, a little restless, too, under his fixed gaze, " are 
 we to be as serious as all that? " 
 
 " You girls are marvelous," he said in a lighter 
 tone, " and you don't even appreciate the wonders you 
 accomplish ! " 
 
 " Go on ! Cross-examine me ! It's a new ex- 
 perience ! " she said, dropping her hands into her lap 
 resignedly, with mock submission. She felt as though 
 she were playing a great role, and that before an audi- 
 ence which would not respond which she was de- 
 termined should respond ; and yet, much as she wished 
 to try his composure, she was still groping for the 
 proper tactics. 
 
 " Some day will you tell me something? " 
 
 " I'm afraid, Your Honor, I'd tell you almost any- 
 thing! What is it?" 
 
 " Where you come from your home why you 
 left" 
 
 " The story of my life right away! "
 
 I 3 4 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " I should be interested ! " 
 
 " My father was shot the week before I was born," 
 she began, composing her features. " Mother was 
 arrested on suspicion; I was born in jail. . . ." 
 
 " Wait," he said, with an appreciative nod. " I 
 don't want a romance ! " 
 
 She laughed with some confusion. 
 
 " What a pity ! It was such a good start." 
 
 " I want the truth not one of a dozen stories 
 you've made up ! " 
 
 She eyed the tip of her red slipper, raising it 
 slightly. 
 
 " Some day I'll tell you," she said finally. " Next 
 question ! " 
 
 " Where in the world did you pick up the name ? " 
 
 " Pick up ? What do you mean ? " 
 
 " The ' DoreV It wasn't your own ! " 
 
 " Oh, I found it," she said, turning away hastily, 
 as if afraid he might have guessed. 
 
 That was one thing she could never tell him, no 
 matter where future confidences might lead her. It 
 had, in truth, been the suggestion of a certain Josh 
 Nebbins, press-agent for a local theater, who had 
 once adored her fatuously one of those forgotten 
 minor incidents, lost in the impenetrable mists of an 
 outlived beginning, an indiscretion that she wished 
 to forget, an impossible admirer of the days when 
 her taste had not been cultivated. 
 
 Luckily, in this moment of her confusion the tele- 
 phone saved her. 
 
 " Shall I close my ears ? " he said instantly.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 135 
 
 " The idea ! Do you think I haven't learned how 
 to telephone ? " she said indignantly. " See how much 
 you can gather from it ! " 
 
 He waited, availing himself of her permission to 
 listen, seeking in vain to patch sense in the guarded 
 replies that came to him: 
 
 " I know who it is. Go ahead. . . . No, not 
 alone but that makes no difference. . . . Well, I 
 thought it was time! Engaged to-night! . . . You 
 saw me? . . . To-day this afternoon. . . . 'Deed 
 I am! . . . Why not? Lovely! . . . I'm sorry! 
 
 . . . When? . . . Yes! . . . Oh, terribly exciting! 
 
 > 
 
 He smiled, and admitting defeat, continued his ex- 
 amination of the room. Keen amateur of the thou- 
 sandfold subterranean currents of the city, none in- 
 terested him more than the adventurous life of the 
 Salamanders, with their extraordinary contrasts of 
 wealth and poverty. He had known them by the 
 dozens, and yet each was a new problem. Was it pos- 
 sible that she could experience no temptation before 
 the opportunities of sudden wealth, so boldly enticing, 
 or did she not realize what such opportunities could 
 mean? The interview interested him hugely. He 
 felt himself master of the situation, enjoying the 
 sudden turns of his intimate knowledge that kept her 
 on the defensive keen enough to know the ad- 
 vantage, with a woman, of establishing an instant su- 
 periority. 
 
 " Well ? " she said, returning and looking at him 
 with a teasing glance.
 
 136 THE SALAMANDER: 
 
 " I'll admit that you've learned to telephone," he 
 said appreciatively. " What were your planning 
 how best to elope?" 
 
 " You didn't guess who it was ? " 
 
 "Sassoon?" 
 
 "No; Mr. Harrigan Blood." 
 
 " H'm ! I should like to have heard " 
 
 The telephone interrupted again, but this time, re- 
 sponding in an assumed voice, she cut it off abruptly, 
 swinging back to her perch on the trunk. 
 
 " Ready ! Go on with the examination. Well ! 
 what are you thinking ? " 
 
 " I am trying to see the whole scheme," he said, 
 looking at her seriously. " Sassoon, Blood, twenty 
 others, I understand, excitement and all that. How 
 long have you been in it ? " 
 
 "In what?" 
 
 "In this maelstrom of New York?" 
 
 " Two years, almost ! " 
 
 " Ah, then there must be a man or two behind the 
 rocks!" 
 
 " How funnily you express things," she said, half 
 guessing his meaning. " Just what do you mean ? " 
 
 He took out his cigarette-case, asked permission 
 with a nod, and lighting a match, said : 
 
 " The man behind the rock ? Oh, that's obvious ! 
 The man you have only to whistle for, the passably 
 acceptable man, safe, eligible, marriageable. The man 
 who will come forward at any time! Every woman 
 understands that. Perhaps there are several rocks, 
 way back in the background ? No fibbing, now ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 137 
 
 She laughed, and thinking of Peavey, blushed under 
 his quick gaze. 
 
 " Yes, of course." 
 
 " More than one ? " 
 
 " Three or four ; but I shall never whistle ! " 
 
 " That's what makes the game so exhilarating, isn't 
 it?" 
 
 " Naturally ! There's always a retreat," she said, 
 nodding. 
 
 His way of taking her, unexpected and positive, 
 made her forget, at times, the combat intended, in the 
 delight of self-analyzation. 
 
 ' Your eyes are extraordinary," he said, meeting 
 her glance critically. " They're not eyes ; they're blue 
 clouds entangled in your eyelashes." 
 
 But even in this there was no personal enthusiasm. 
 He spoke enthusiastically, but as an observer, cal- 
 culating and foreseeing developments. This compli- 
 ment infuriated Dore. She was not accustomed to 
 having men meet her full glance with nothing but 
 criticism. 
 
 " Thank you ! " she said icily. " You compliment 
 like an oculist." 
 
 " No oculist would understand the value of such 
 eyes," he answered calmly; " De Joncy was right when 
 he said there was a million in each." 
 
 " So you overheard ? " 
 
 " And you did you understand ? " 
 
 "Of course!" 
 
 She sprang to the floor, and went to the dressing- 
 table on the pretext of seeking a comb.
 
 138 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " I don't like the way you talk to me," she said, 
 with her back to him. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 The real reason she could not avow that she re- 
 sented this immovable impersonality of his attitude. 
 This man, who saw into her, who divined so much 
 that she believed securely masked, and yet showed 
 no trace of emotion even in his flattery, began to irri- 
 tate her, as well as to arouse all the dangerous vanities. 
 But, as she could not tell him this, she assumed an 
 indignant manner and said: 
 
 " I believe you really think I shall turn into an 
 adventuress ! " 
 
 " No-o," he said slowly, as if reflecting. " You 
 may come near it very near it ; but it will be a haz- 
 ard of the imagination. You will end very dif- 
 ferently!" 
 
 " Ah, yes," she said, suddenly remembering, her 
 irritation yielding to her curiosity, " you were going 
 to prophesy. Well, what's going to happen to me?" 
 
 " You will be angry if I tell you," he said, with a 
 whimsical pursing of his lips. 
 
 "No! What?" 
 
 " You will burn up another year or so ; you will 
 come very, very near a good many things; and then 
 you will marry, and turn into a devoted, loyal little 
 Hausfrau like a million other little Hausfraus who 
 have thought they were in this world to do anything 
 else but marry! " 
 
 "No, no! Don't you dare say that!" she said,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 139 
 
 covering her ears and stamping her foot. " That 
 never ! " 
 
 " Mark my prophecy," he said, with mock solemnity, 
 delighted at the fury he had aroused. 
 
 " No, no ! I won't be commonplace ! " she cried. 
 " I am in this world to do something unusual, extraor- 
 dinary. I'm not like every other little woman. 
 Marriage? Never! Three meals a day at the same 
 hours the same man domesticity ! Horrors ! " 
 
 " Of course, of course," he said, with his provoking 
 analytic exactness of phrase. " My dear girl, this is 
 not a real life you are indulging in! Some day, per- 
 haps, I'll discuss it more frankly with you. All this 
 is a phase of mild hysteria. Do you know what you 
 are doing? You're not living; you're rejecting life 
 yes, just that! with every man you meet. The 
 time comes when you will have to select. The forces 
 of nature you are playing with are bigger than you; 
 they'll conquer you in the end decide for you! 
 Now you play at fooling men so much that you fool 
 yourself. When you marry, you will surprise your- 
 self!" 
 
 "Stop!" she cried furiously. "Marriage! Yes, 
 that's all you men believe we are capable of ! But we 
 are different now. We can be free we can live our 
 own lives ! And I will not be commonplace. Nothing 
 can make me that. I'd rather have a tragic love-affair 
 than that! Oh, what's the use of living, if you have 
 to do as every one else does ! " 
 
 She went to the window at the side, covering the
 
 140 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 ground with the leap of a panther, working herself 
 to a fury. 
 
 " Do you know what this wall is ? " she cried, strik- 
 ing the curtain, which rolled up with the report of a 
 pistol " this ugly, hateful, brutal wall that I hate, 
 loathe, despise ? That's matrimony ! ugly, cold, 
 horrid wall ! " 
 
 She groped with her hand, caught the tassel, and 
 pulled the shade without turning around. 
 
 " But, you see, you can't shut it out ! " he said 
 maliciously, pointing to the space that showed under 
 the deficient shade. 
 
 " There'll be no wall in my life," she said, with a 
 toss of her head. She felt herself in her most effec- 
 tive theatrical mood, and she flung the reins to it, car- 
 ing nothing where it led her. Now, at all costs, she 
 w 7 as resolved to thaw out this glacial reserve of his, 
 rouse him, teach him that she could not be held so 
 cheap. "No wall in my life! No man to tell me: 
 Do this do that come here go there ! Sacri- 
 fices? I shall never make them! I tell you, all I 
 want is to live to really live! A short life, but a 
 free one! You think Sassoon tempts me; you think 
 I'd change this room for a palace or a home! You 
 don't understand me ! No ; not with all you think you 
 understand ! " 
 
 " Tell me ! " he said, transforming himself into an 
 audience. 
 
 She changed suddenly from the passion of protest 
 to almost a caressing delight, ready to turn into a 
 hundred shapes to overwhelm him. For this perfect
 
 THE SALAMANDER I4t 
 
 discipline of his rushed her on. She would find under 
 the observer the spark of the savage! Perhaps it 
 was because she had no fear that she played so boldly, 
 recognizing in him the true gentleman, and woman- 
 like, presuming on this knowledge. He continued 
 like a statue. She was not quiet a moment, flitting to 
 and fro near him, dangerously near Kim, with a hun- 
 dred coquetries of movement, half-revealing poses, 
 sudden flashes of the eyes, confiding smiles, all tantaliz- 
 ing, insinuating, caressing, tender, provoking, filled 
 with the zest of a naughty child. 
 
 " Oh, Your Honor ! you're a very, very wise man," 
 she said, shaking her finger at him, "but you have 
 not seized the real point. We want to be free ! Yes, 
 we could live where we wanted, in the finest apart- 
 ments, but it is such fun to be in an old boarding- 
 house at ten dollars a week, when you never know 
 how you're going to raise the rent! Ah, the rent! 
 that's a terrible bugbear, I can tell you! You know 
 one trick for doing it. There are a hundred, things 
 you would never guess ; for, with all your prying eye's, 
 you are just like the rest less stupid, not more 
 clever ! " 
 
 " Tell me some," he said, his eyes half closed as if 
 dazzled by this sudden outpouring of youth and ex- 
 citement. 
 
 " No no," she said, shaking her hair so merrily 
 that a loosened curl came tumbling over her ear. She 
 changed the mood, coming near to him, laying her 
 hand appealingly on his sleeve. " Ah, don't get wrong 
 ideas. Don't judge us too harshly! We're not mer-
 
 142 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 cenary at the bottom; it isn't the money we want 
 that's very little! It's the fun of playing the game!" 
 
 " Precipices ? " he suggested, nodding. 
 
 " Ah, yes, precipices ! " she said, in a sudden ecstasy; 
 and as she said it her eyes drooped, her lips seemed 
 to tremble apart as if giving up her body to a sigh 
 half ecstasy, half languor. 
 
 " I can remember when I adored precipices, too," 
 he said, drawing his arm away from her touch and 
 folding it over the other, tightly across his chest. 
 
 " Remember ! " she said mockingly, snapping her 
 fingers under his nose. " You do now. Who 
 doesn't ? " She put a space between them with a sud- 
 den bound, as though he had made a move to retain 
 her. Then, with a whirl, she poised herself gleefully 
 on the arm of a chair. " I adore precipices ! It's such 
 fun to go dashing along their edges, leaning up against 
 the wind that tries to throw you over, looking way, 
 way down, thousands of miles, and hear the little 
 stones go tumbling down, down and then to crouch 
 suddenly, spring aside and see a great, stupid, puffy 
 man snatch at the air and go head over heels, ker- 
 plunk! You don't understand that feeling? " she said, 
 stopping short. 
 
 " I understand that ! " he said curtly. 
 
 She whirled suddenly on her feet, extending her 
 arms against an imaginary gale, and bending over, her 
 finger on her lips, pretended to gaze into unfathomable 
 depths. 
 
 " But you never fall in," he said wisely. 
 
 Instantly she straightened up.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 143 
 
 "Oh, dear, no! for then, you see, there would be 
 only one precipice, endlessly, forever and ever! No 
 more precipices, no more fun, no more Dodo and 
 that would be unbearable ! " 
 
 " And are there many precipices, Dodo ? " he said, 
 assuming the privilege. 
 
 " Oh, dear, yes many precipices," she said, watch- 
 ing him maliciously. " There are old precipices, but 
 those aren't interesting! Then, there are new ones, 
 too ; oh, yes, several very interesting new ones ! " 
 
 " Blainey," he said ; but she shook her head. 
 
 " I'm afraid that's not a precipice," she said se- 
 riously. But at once, back in her roguish mood, she 
 continued : " Sassoon's a moderately exciting preci- 
 pice, only he will look so ridiculous as he goes spin- 
 ning down, all arms and legs ! " 
 
 She took a few steps toward the door, and put her 
 hand to her ear. 
 
 " And I think there was the beginning of another 
 precipice there to-night; only oh!" She exag- 
 gerated the exclamation with a confidential nod to 
 him. " That is a very risky one. I shall have to be 
 very careful, and always have a long start ! " 
 
 "Others?" 
 
 "Others? Of course there are others!" she said 
 indignantly. " Everywhere naturally but I'm 
 not going to tell you. You know entirely too much 
 already. Only of one ! " 
 
 "Aha!" 
 
 " A very curious one, but very exciting ! A preci- 
 pice that I can see right here in this room ! "
 
 144 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 "An old one?" 
 
 " Not at all ! Quite new ! " She made a pretense 
 of simulating it on the rug, to pass mockingly under 
 his eyes, daintily, with steps that trod on air. " Do 
 you want to know where it is ? " 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " It runs from the tip of this mischievous, naughty 
 red slipper, right straight across the carpet, to let 
 me sect where does it go? Over over over 
 here!" 
 
 She came with her head down, peeping up from 
 under her eyelashes, balancing with her hands on 
 an imaginary line, straight by him, laughing to her- 
 self, and passed so close that he felt the flutter of her 
 dress and the warm perfume from her hair. 
 
 " Little devil ! " he said between his teeth, and fling- 
 ing out his hand, caught her retreating shoulder. 
 
 She wrenched herself free, sprang away and turned, 
 blazing with anger, forgetting all that she had done 
 wilfully, maliciously, to tantalize him illogical, un- 
 reasoning, wildly revolting at the acquiring touch of 
 this male hand on her free body. 
 
 " How dare you ! " she cried, advancing on him, 
 gloriously enraged, fists clenched. " How dare you ! 
 You you contemptible you oh, you brute, 
 brute! You dare to touch me again you dare!" 
 She turned suddenly, striking him on the chest with 
 her little fists, crude, futile, repeated blows, choking 
 with shame, still in the dramatized mood. " You 
 dared you dared ! And I trusted oh ! " 
 
 He did not retreat, opposing no resistance to the
 
 THE SALAMANDER 145' 
 
 frantic drumming of her blows, watching her coldly, 
 with something besides ice in the intensity of his mock- 
 ing glance. Then, when from lack of breath her 
 rage spent itself a moment, he said calmly, his glance 
 in her glance, as a trainer's subduing a revolted ani- 
 mal, deliberate, slow, imperative: 
 
 " Now, stop acting! " 
 
 She caught herself up, tried to answer and found 
 only another furious gesture. 
 
 " I said, stop acting ! " he repeated bruskly, and 
 stepping to her, caught her in his arms. She cried 
 out in a muffled strangled voice, turning, twisting, 
 flinging herself about fruitlessly in the iron of his 
 embrace. He held her silently until she ceased to 
 struggle ; and then his eyes continued to hold her eyes, 
 fixed, imperious, compelling her gaze. She remained 
 quiet very quiet, looking at him startled, in doubt, 
 seeing in him something new, masterful. And as he 
 continued steadily looking into her eyes, penetrating 
 beyond, overcoming all resistance, a smile came to 
 her, a smile of confession, gathering from the cloudy 
 blue of her eyes, running down the curve of her cheek, 
 playing about the thin upturned lips. He bent his 
 head deliberately. She did not turn aside her lips. 
 . . . Then on this embrace came another, a convulsive 
 frantic clinging of the lips, a kiss which conquered 
 them both, flinging a mist across their eyes, stopping 
 their ears, stilling their reason. This kiss, which went 
 through her like a flame, blinding out the world, hurl- 
 ing into her brain a new life and. a new knowledge, 
 caught him, too, in the moment when he felt the
 
 146 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 strongest, the most able to dare. Neither his eyes 
 nor his brain had foreseen this nor the touch of her 
 arms twining about his neck. He had a moment of 
 vertigo in which he suddenly ceased to think. He 
 kissed her again, and she answered hungrily, whisper- 
 ing: 
 
 " I didn't know! Ah, you've come " 
 
 All at once his mind cleared as if a hand of ice had 
 touched his forehead. He tried to put her arms from 
 him, aroused, suddenly frightened at where he had 
 been whirled by the immense combustibility of nature. 
 But still she clung to him, her eyes closed, her lips 
 raised, repeating: 
 
 " At last oh, at last ! " 
 
 " What have I done ? " he said to himself, conscious- 
 stricken at her glorified face. He stiffened against the 
 soft arms, that sought to draw him back, saying 
 hoarsely : 
 
 " Dodo listen, Dodo!" 
 
 But she shook her head, pervaded suddenly by an 
 incomprehensible ecstasy of weakness, the oblivion of 
 absolute surrender. She opened her eyes once, and 
 let them close again heavily. 
 
 " Please," she said in a whisper, " don't don't 
 say anything. Don't talk. . . . It's all too wonder- 
 ful!" " 
 
 Then, abruptly, he tore her away from him, grasping 
 his coat, placing a table between them. 
 
 " To-morrow ! " he said, in a voice he did not recog- 
 nize, knowing not what to believe, afraid of what he 
 might say, amazed that all his will had gone.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 147 
 
 She gave a cry, extending her hands to him. 
 . "No! Oh, don't go!" 
 
 "I must, Dodo! I must!" 
 
 " How can you ? " she cried. " How cruel ! " 
 
 She covered her face suddenly, and her whole body 
 began to tremble. 
 
 " Good night ! " he said hurriedly, a prey to a wild 
 tugging that bade him leap to her. 
 
 She did not answer, swaying in the center of her 
 room, shaken from head to foot. 
 
 "Good night!" He took a long breath and re- 
 peated: " Good night, Dodo! " 
 
 Still she did not answer. 
 
 " To-morrow ! " 
 
 No longer trusting himself, he flung through the 
 door, out and down the stairs. 
 
 She went herself across the room, her knees sink- 
 ing under her, groped for the door, weakly closed it 
 and turned the key. And for the first time she was 
 afraid ! 
 
 How was it possible that she, who had known so 
 much, who had feared so little, should suddenly, in 
 the twinkling of an eye, have been overwhelmed, 
 caught and mastered ? What did it mean ? And this 
 question brought with it a fierce delirious joy in her 
 moment of panic. For she was in fear of many 
 things known, and things uncomprehended : fear of 
 where she had passed; fear of where she was going; 
 of him! 
 
 Had it been only a game, or had he, too, been caught 
 as she had been caught ? Fear there was of the flames
 
 148 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 that lay in his touch, fear of that blank moment when 
 she had known nothing, cared nothing, with the sud- 
 den starting horror with which once she had come out 
 of a swoon. But most of all she had a fear of the fire 
 that had broken out within her, in that first awful, law- 
 less moment, in which the knowledge of life had come 
 to her in blinding realization. 
 
 " Do I is it love? If not, what is it? Why am 
 I so?" 
 
 But this time she did not dramatize her mood. She 
 found no answer, slowly recovering mastery of her- 
 self. She remained with her back against the door, 
 her arms extended, barring the return, bewildered, 
 weak, revolted, happy, fearing, listening. 
 
 Suddenly the sound of a returning step a tapping 
 on the door, irresolute, and a voice calling to her. 
 
 It was Massingale. 
 
 So! He had not been able to go! In a flash she 
 was again the free Salamander, emerging out of the 
 fire of conflict, triumphant by the last dramatic hazard. 
 And being her own mistress again, she made no mis- 
 take. 
 
 She drew herself up, arms barring the door in the 
 sign of a cross. 
 
 " Not now ! " she said breathlessly. 
 
 He did not answer. She heard his step on the 
 stairs, descending. When, at last, her arms fell, there 
 was a gleam of exultation in her eyes. Whatever this 
 might mean, wherever it might lead, she knew now, 
 by that momentary yielding weakness of his return, 
 that she would be in the last crisis the stronger !
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 DORE went to bed at once not to sleep, for she 
 felt in her mind a cold clarity that seemed im- 
 pervious to fatigue, but in order to avoid conversation 
 with Snyder. She did not at once return over the 
 surprising moments of the night. From her pillow 
 the flushed clock-face of the Metropolitan Tower came 
 bulging into the room. She watched it with a con- 
 tented numbness of the senses, striving to follow the 
 jerky advance of the minute-hand, conscious only of 
 the fragrance and pleasure of the cool bed-linen, 
 dreamily awake, prey to a delicious mental languor. 
 She asked herself no questions . . . she wished no 
 answers. The emotional self which had so violently 
 awakened within her, overturning all her mental qui 
 vive, returned, but in a gentle warm dominion. She 
 drew her arm under the pillow . . . and her embrace 
 was tightening about his neck again. She felt herself 
 caught, rudely imprisoned, struggling dominated, 
 convulsively yielding. She moved restlessly, rear- 
 ranging the pillows returning impatiently into the 
 illusion, feeling herself always in his arms. 
 
 ' The great elemental forces of nature will decide 
 for you," he had said. . . . 
 
 She remembered the words confusedly. She had 
 never quite believed in these forces . . . though often 
 
 149
 
 150 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 in her lawless imagination she had sought to compre- 
 hend them, never convinced, always puzzled. She had 
 permitted half stolen embraces, furtive clasps of the 
 hand, wondering, always disillusioned. She had per- 
 ceived, it is true, some inexplicable emotional madness 
 in the men who sought her . . . and sometimes 
 roughly it had repelled her to great distances. This 
 abrupt disorder which she could call forth with a tone 
 of her voice, a quick lingering glance or a certain re- 
 clining languor, had excited her curiosity. There was 
 a certain mental exhilaration in it, the cruel teasing 
 of the feline, playing with its prey. It gave her an ex- 
 cited sense of power . . . that was all. The slight- 
 est acquiring advance had roused in her a fury of re- 
 sistance. . . . And now, at last, she knew ! This was 
 the force that had made playthings of men and women, 
 that sent them where they did not wish to go, that 
 could upset all coldly logical calculations, that gave 
 the frailest little women irresistible weapons against 
 the strongest men ... or made them throw all op- 
 portunities to the wind and follow incomprehensible 
 husbands. 
 
 She heard the cautious entering of Snyder, and in- 
 stantly closed her eyes, breathing deep a light word 
 would have seemed a sacrilege. She waited, irritated 
 and nervous, until her room-mate, undressing in the 
 pale reflections, had noiselessly curled herself on the 
 couch. 
 
 What would she have done if he had remained? 
 Now the languor that had stolen treacherously over her 
 senses was gone, dissipated by the presence of another
 
 THE SALAMANDER 151 
 
 human being. Her mind threw itself feverishly on 
 the problem, encircling it, trying it from a hundred 
 points of view. What did it mean ? Was her liberty, 
 her freedom of action suddenly jeopardized? And the 
 thought of this overpowering new force made her vio- 
 lently react . . . striving to escape its verity . . . 
 just as her body had whipped around in his arms when 
 they had suddenly closed about her. What was it 
 frightened her ? . . . the man, or something awakened 
 within her? 
 
 She sat up in bed, her head in her palms, throbbingly 
 awake. What would have happened if he had stayed? 
 . . . But he had not stayed and she had not allowed 
 him to return. She said it to herself victoriously . . . 
 illogically evading an answer . . . momentarily satis- 
 fied. And if he came again? Would there be a new 
 danger ? 
 
 She sank wearily on her pillow. No ... of that 
 she was sure . . . never again would she be so vul- 
 nerable. ... It had been the unknown the thing 
 she had not believed in which had taken her by sur- 
 prise . . . unprepared. 
 
 Then he had made the mistake of returning. Mas- 
 singale, strong and unyielding, had had a fearfully 
 attractive force over her will and her vanity, but the 
 other . . . the Massingale who had returned, was 
 human, and therefore could be subjected. No! . . . 
 she would never fear him again! 
 
 Did she love him? . . . She did not know ... at 
 least she insisted that it could not be so not all at 
 once perhaps, later. But she knew this that she
 
 152 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 longed to see him again, to have the dragging night 
 end, to awaken to the morning and to hear his com- 
 ing, ... to go hurriedly with him out of the discord- 
 ant city, somewhere, where it was peaceful and soli- 
 tary, . . . somewhere where they could turn and look 
 in each other's eyes and know what had happened. 
 
 At other moments she said to herself with profound 
 conviction that it must be love, that that was the way, 
 the only way, that love could come, overpowering the 
 reason, despite the reason, beating down all reason. 
 Then if it were love? Would she submit, renounce all 
 her defiantly proclaimed liberty? Characteristically, 
 she did not answer. Instead, she projected herself 
 into this submission, and her imagination, volatile as 
 a dream, whisked her from one fancy to another. 
 She imagined what it would be like to fill a feverish 
 letter, each night after he had gone, with all the ten- 
 der, passionate, jealous, or yearning fancies that he 
 had left tumultuously stirring in her breast a let- 
 ter which she herself would carry hastily out into the 
 night, running to the letter-box at the corner, that he 
 might wake to a surprise. And each morning she, 
 too, would awake to his call, his voice over the tele- 
 phone. At other times, sentimentally urged, she vis- 
 ualized him as ill, sadly stricken, herself at his bedside. 
 
 " So, after all, I am going to marry like all the 
 rest!" she said, suddenly roused. This one word 
 " marriage " pierced through all the fancied illu- 
 sions. Marriage one man; nothing but one man 
 every day, year in and year out was it possible ? 
 Could she resign herself? No more excitement, no
 
 THE SALAMANDER 153 
 
 more gambling with opportunity, no more dramatizing 
 herself to each new situation, no more luring and eva- 
 sion, no more sporting with dull brute strength or 
 matching of wits nothing but the expected, the rou- 
 tine yes, the inevitable commonplace? Could she 
 give this up so soon ? She rose fiercely against the 
 sacrifice. Never! She preferred her youth. 
 
 All at once a sound broke across the hot flights of 
 her conflicting fancies. She sat up instantly, bending 
 forward, listening. She had heard a sob, muffled but 
 unmistakable, from the adjoining room then an- 
 other. She slipped quickly to the floor. Snyder too 
 had risen. 
 
 " Be quiet, Snyder. Let me go," she said to her in 
 a whisper, forcing her back. 
 
 She felt her way to the door, and opening it quietly, 
 passed into Winona's room. 
 
 " Who's that?." asked a frightened voice. 
 
 " Hush ! It's I Dodo. I heard you," she said, 
 groping. "What's wrong, Winona?" 
 
 But the figure in the bed, without answer, buried it- 
 self face down in the covers, striving to choke back 
 the sobs. 
 
 Dore put her arm about her, endeavoring to calm 
 her, wondering and a little apprehensive. 
 
 " But this is frightful ! Winona, you mustn't ! " 
 she said helplessly. " Winona, can't you tell me ? 
 Can't you speak? " 
 
 The girl grasped her hand, pressing it convulsively. 
 Dor waited, seized by the mystery of the heavy night, 
 the stillness and the little animal sound of sorrow.
 
 154 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 Between Salamanders real confidences are rare. 
 What did she know of this life which only a wall di- 
 vided from her? A suspicion flashed into her mind, 
 knowing the perilous ways that sometimes had to be 
 run. All at once she remembered. 
 
 "Winona!" she cried joyfully. "What a fool I 
 am ! I've good news ! It's all settled Blainey to- 
 morrow ! " And as the girl, buried in her pillow, con- 
 tinued to struggle against the sobs, she shook her by 
 the shoulder, repeating : " Blainey wants to see you ; 
 he's giving you a chance. Do you hear ? " 
 
 " Chance ! Ah, I've had a thousand chances ! 
 What's the use ! " exclaimed the girl, twisting in the 
 bed. " It's always the same ! Don't I know it 
 know it ! " 
 
 " But you won't throw away this one ? " 
 
 "Chance! Yes, that's all it is chance!" she 
 cried uncontrollably. " If I wasn't such a fool ! 
 What's the use of trying, anyhow? It don't make any 
 difference. Nothing ever does! Ah, I'll give up. 
 I'll go back!" She continued, repeating herself end- 
 lessly, beating the pillow with her fist; and as she 
 abandoned herself to despair, old errors of speech, for- 
 gotten accents, mingled in her cries. " It ain't right ! 
 No, it ain't right nothing ever comes of nothing ! 
 Nothing works out nothing ! Ah, no ! I'll go back 
 I'll go back I'll go back to it! " 
 
 " What do you mean? Back to what? " 
 
 Winona caught her throat, silenced suddenly. 
 
 "Can't you tell me?" 
 
 " I'm all right now," said Winona, shaking her head.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 155 
 
 She disengaged herself bruskly, sitting up, twisting 
 her fingers in the physical effort at control. She 
 turned, clutching Dore. 
 
 " Did Blainey he what did he say? " 
 
 Dore, inventing details, building up a favorable in- 
 cident, exaggerated the importance, recounted the in- 
 terview. 
 
 " I told him Zeller was after you. You know how 
 he hates Zeller! He's crazy to steal you! You'll 
 see! Everything will work like a charm and the 
 part just for you! " 
 
 She continued optimistically pouring out encourage- 
 ment. Winona allowed herself to be convinced, grasp- 
 ing at straws. They remained talking deeply of dif- 
 ficulties and discouragements, always avoiding the 
 questions that lay below. Once Dore had said tenta- 
 tively : 
 
 " Winona, wouldn't it help you just to talk out 
 everything tell me everything? I'd understand. 
 Do trust me ! " 
 
 But the girl, resisting, answered hastily : 
 
 " No ! no ! Not now ! Some day, perhaps." 
 
 Dore made no further effort. She drew her arm 
 about her. 
 
 " Then let me quiet you," she said softly. 
 
 Winona, without resistance, allowed herself to go 
 into her arms. They ceased speaking, clinging to each 
 other there in the dark, and a strange sensation came 
 to Dore at the touch of the body clinging to her, these 
 unseen arms so tenaciously taut: it seemed to her al- 
 most that she heard another voice, mastering her
 
 156 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 physically and morally, making her suddenly flexible 
 and without defense, a voice saying: 
 
 " Now, stop acting! " 
 
 " All right. Better now. I can sleep," said the girl 
 in her arms. " Thanks." 
 
 Dodo rose and went gliding back. Snyder, open- 
 eyed, made no sound. She was grateful to her for 
 this, divining the reason. Back in her bed, huddling 
 under the covers, she recalled Winona with a feeling 
 of horror. To lose one's courage like that how 
 terrible! And if she herself were thus to be trans- 
 formed, if all her indomitable audacity should sud- 
 denly go 
 
 " There's some man back of it all," she said, think- 
 ing of Winona. " There always is a man." 
 
 Yet she had been on the point of rapturously 
 hugging the first dream that had come to her in an 
 uncomprehended moment, of submitting to a man 
 the very thought flung her back into intuitive revolt. 
 
 " But, if it isn't love, how could he have such power 
 over me? Could there be such a vertigo without true 
 love? Could such a thing be possible?" Time and 
 time again she put these questions, finding different 
 answers. At times she let herself go deliciously, 
 stretching out her arms, conjuring up that first pene- 
 trating embrace. At others, fiercely aroused, she re- 
 sisted him with every fiber of her body, rejecting sub- 
 mission, resolved to combat him, to subordinate him, 
 to retain always her defiant supremacy, to revenge her 
 momentary defeat by some future victory. 
 
 Neither in the yielding nor in the revolt was there
 
 THE SALAMANDER 157 
 
 any conviction no peace and no calm. What there 
 was, was all disorder, and the insistent drumming note 
 of his voice, which drew her to him, had in it the con- 
 fusion of a fever. 
 
 Though she had fallen asleep late, she awoke early, 
 with a start. It was half past eight by the clock. She 
 rose abruptly on her elbow at a sound that had startled 
 her from her slumber the slippery rustle of letters 
 gliding under the crack of the door. There were two, 
 white and mysterious against the faded blue of the 
 carpet. She was about to spring to them when she 
 perceived Snyder watching her. She contained her- 
 self with a violent effort, waiting, with eyes that were 
 averted not to betray their eagerness, until they were 
 brought to her. She was certain that he had written, 
 and something within her began to tremble and grow 
 cold with the suspense of awaiting his first letter. At 
 her first glance she fell from the clouds. One was in 
 Mr. Peavey's disciplined hand, the other in Joe Gil- 
 day's boyish scrawl, each announcing expected gifts. 
 She had a sudden weak desire for tears. 
 
 " Gee ! eggs and cream ! Who is the fairy god- 
 mother ? " said Snyder. " Say, you must have a wish- 
 ing-cap ! " 
 
 " It's Mr. Peavey, bless his heart! " said Dore. At 
 that moment, in her first exaggerated pang of disap- 
 pointment, she had an affectionate inclination to the 
 elderly bachelor. He would not have treated her so, 
 had the roles been shifted. 
 
 "Going to be a habit?" 
 
 " Hope so."
 
 158 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " I'm strong for that boy; I like his style! " 
 Dore smiled; she comprehended the thought. She 
 cast a hasty glance at Gilday's disordered pages. It 
 was, as she had surmised, the humble tender of bou- 
 quets to come. She dissembled her disappointment as 
 best she could, seeking excuses. He might have 
 posted his letter after midnight, from his club. It 
 would come in the late morning mail. Or perhaps he 
 had preferred to telephone. It must be that! Of 
 course, that was the explanation. He wished to hear 
 her voice, as she longed for his, and then they would 
 take rendezvous at once. Yes, he would telephone 
 now at any moment. She glanced again at the 
 clock. Ten long minutes had elapsed. The excuse 
 so convinced her that she felt a sudden access of un- 
 reasoning happiness, as if already, by some sense, she 
 had divined his coming. 
 
 She had promised over the telephone the night be- 
 fore to pay a morning visit to Harrigan Blood in the 
 editorial rooms of the Free Press, and then there was 
 the appointment for luncheon with Sassoon. These 
 acceptances did not disturb her in the least. When 
 anything was offered, her invariable tactics were to ac- 
 cept provisionally. For her tactics were simple, 
 but formed on the basic strategy of the Salamanders : 
 acceptance that raises hopes, then an excuse that brings 
 tantalizing disorder, but whets the appetite. To-day 
 she had not the slightest intention of keeping either 
 appointment. She was only glad that she had con- 
 tracted them. It was a little bit of treachery which 
 she would offer up to Massingale.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 159 
 
 She chose her simplest costume blue, the invaria- 
 ble Russian blouse, white collar open at the neck, and 
 a bit of red in the slim belt. She wished to come to 
 him girlish, without artifice. She felt so gaily elated 
 that she turned tenderly toward the happiness of oth- 
 ers. Winona would sleep until ten at least. She 
 wheeled suddenly, and putting her arm around Sny- 
 der, embraced her. In the confusion, a locket became 
 entangled in her lace. 
 
 " What's that? You've never shown me," she said, 
 catching the chain. 
 
 Snyder silently touched the spring. Inside was the 
 face of a child of four or five. 
 
 "Yours?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " How pretty ! What's her name ? " 
 
 " Betty." 
 
 They stood close together, looking at the uncom- 
 prehending childish gaze. 
 
 "Where is she?" 
 
 " With my mother." 
 
 "Aren't you going to take her ever?" 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 " Why not? " She dropped the locket, glancing at 
 this half woman, half girl, who continually perplexed 
 her. " She is so sweet how can you do without 
 her?" 
 
 " Want her to have a home," said Snyder abruptly. 
 She turned, as if the conversation were distasteful. 
 " Can't be dragging her all over the continent, can 
 I?"
 
 160 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 A great pity came to Dore, that any one should be 
 unhappy in such a bright world. A fantastic thought 
 followed. She knew only that Snyder was divorced 
 a child, a broken home. Yet persons often di- 
 vorced for the absurdest reasons; perhaps it had only 
 been a misunderstanding. If she could reconcile them, 
 bring them together again ! She approached the sub- 
 ject timidly. 
 
 " Do me a favor? " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Let me see Betty ; bring her here ! " 
 
 Snyder's agitation was such that she came near 
 pushing over the coffee-pot. 
 
 " You really you want me to " 
 
 "Yes. Why not? I adore children!" 
 
 She continued to watch her, surprised at the emo- 
 tion she had aroused. 
 
 " Yes, she is unhappy frightfully unhappy ! " she 
 thought, and taking courage, she added : " Snyder, 
 tell me something? " 
 
 Snyder shook her head, but, despite the objection, 
 Dore continued: 
 
 " You have never told me of him your husband. 
 Are you sure it couldn't be patched up? Are you sure 
 you don't care ? " 
 
 " I don't want to talk about it it's ended ! " said 
 Snyder, so abruptly that Dore drew back. 
 
 " I only asked " 
 
 " Don't want help don't want to talk ! " Snyder 
 broke in, in the same embittered tone. 
 
 " Not to me? " said Dore gently.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 161 
 
 Snyder drew a long breath, and turned to her 
 swiftly, with an appealing look, in which, however, 
 there was no weakness. 
 
 Then she laid her finger across her lips. 
 
 " Here breakfast is ready ; sit down ! " 
 
 " Snyder, I don't understand you ; you hurt me ! " 
 said Dore, opening her eyes. 
 
 The woman stood a moment, locking and unlocking 
 her hands, swinging from foot to foot. 
 
 " Can't help it. You can't make me over. I've 
 got my rut ! " She shrugged her shoulders. " I'm 
 damned unsociable perhaps I'd better dig out." 
 
 " Snyder ! " exclaimed Dore, bounding to her side. 
 She took her in her arms, crying : " Why, it was only 
 to help you ! " 
 
 " Well, you can't ! " said the other, with a forcible 
 shake of her head, her body stiff against the embrace. 
 And there the conversation ended. 
 
 It was after nine, and still no sound at the telephone. 
 Dore began to feel an uneasy impatience. At any 
 minute, now, certainly he must summon her. Snyder 
 made an excuse and went out. But she ceased to think 
 of her. Her thoughts were no longer keen to an- 
 other's suffering, but sensitive to her own. 
 
 She grew tired of pacing restlessly, and flung her- 
 self down on the couch, her head turned toward the 
 clock, watching it wearily. Why didn't he telephone 
 or, at least, come? This sensation of suspense and 
 waiting, which she had so often dealt out to others, 
 was new to her. It disarranged her whole self, 
 aroused fierce resentful thoughts in her. He wished
 
 162 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 to tantalize her, to draw her on, as he had the night 
 before to be cruel, to make her suffer! Well, she 
 too could be cruel. She would do something to hurt 
 him, too. 
 
 " Very well ! Now I will go to see Harrigan 
 Blood," she said all at once, choking with something 
 that was not entirely anger. 
 
 And hastily slipping into her coat, she went hur- 
 riedly to Ida Summers' room, awoke her and took her 
 with her.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 MR. PEAVEY'S automobile was waiting. Dore 
 had telephoned for it while Ida Summers, 
 protesting, had made a quick toilet. She had at first 
 thought of availing herself for the day of the car so 
 insistently pressed upon her ; but she was not yet quite 
 sure of Brennon, the chauffeur. If by any chance she 
 should decide to keep her appointment with Sassoon, 
 it would not be wise to accept such escort. So she 
 supplemented the day's preparations by a message to 
 Stacey, who was given a later rendezvous. 
 
 " Down-town ! The Free Press building. Hope I 
 didn't get you up too early, Brennon ? " 
 
 He grinned at her ideas of morning values. 
 
 " He looks as if he were a good sort," Dore thought, 
 meditating on the possibilities long after she and Ida 
 had tucked themselves in. 
 
 " I say, Do, what's the game? Give us the cue! " 
 said Ida Summers, making heroic efforts to get her 
 eyes open. 
 
 " Your cue is to be real sisterly," said Dore. " Stick 
 close, unless I give you the wink." 
 
 "Oh, I'll cling! Arm in arm, eh?" said Ida, be- 
 ginning to laugh. " Conversation high-toned. I say, 
 Do, I'm quite excited. Harrigan Blood! You do 
 move in the swellest circles ! " 
 
 163
 
 1 64 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 Dore allowed her to chat away without paying at- 
 tention, a fact that did not disturb her companion in 
 the least. 
 
 " Well, he'll be furious ! " she was thinking, de- 
 lighted at paying Massingale back in coin. Neverthe- 
 less, she had mitigated the retaliation by taking a com- 
 panion. Then, too, the effect on Harrigan Blood 
 would not be at all bad Blood, who expected a tete- 
 a-tete, and who could thus be taught the value of such 
 favors. 
 
 But now that she was finally embarked on her im- 
 pulse, she began to consider more calmly, even with a 
 willingness to see Massingale's side. All at once the 
 perfectly obvious explanation occurred to her. How 
 could he be expected to telephone, when she had not 
 given him the number? Why had she never thought 
 of this before? Probably he had been frantically 
 seeking it ! Of course he could not telephone and 
 of course he could not come personally; he would have 
 to be in court all the morning. Perhaps at this very 
 moment a letter was waiting for her, by the post, or 
 by a messenger! She must indeed be in love, to be 
 such a fool! 
 
 " Thank heaven," she thought, " I had the sense to 
 bring Ida ! I'll confess to him or, no ! He mustn't 
 know what it has meant ! " 
 
 The sudden joyful release, the calm of content that 
 came to her from this explanation, surprised her. 
 For a moment she felt like renouncing the visit ; but a 
 new turn strengthened her resolve. She could hardly 
 believe in what had happened. Perhaps it was only
 
 THE SALAMANDER 165 
 
 another case of self-deception. She would try to re- 
 volt, to be interested in another man, to see if the old 
 game could still attract. 
 
 " Lordy ! I'd forgotten there was so much New 
 York ! " said Ida Summers, who lived, like her thou- 
 sand sisters, between the Flatiron and the park. 
 
 They entered lower Broadway, random flowers on 
 the foul truck-strewn flood, advancing by inches, sur- 
 rounded by polyglot sounds, traversing revolted Eu- 
 rope in a block, closing their ears against the shriek- 
 ing cries of imprisoned industries, the sordid struggle 
 in the streets, the conflict in the air, where stone flights 
 strove for supremacy. 
 
 All at once she remembered this roaring en- 
 trance. She remembered the evening, not two years 
 before, when she herded from the ferry, satchel in 
 hand, oppressed by the jargon of a thousand tongues, 
 she had arrived, hustled and jostled, barely making 
 head against the outflowing tide of humanity which 
 flushed the street in its roaring homeward scramble. 
 
 That first breathless impression of New York! 
 How she had feared it, that first dusky evening, when, 
 shrinking in a doorway before the onrush of driven 
 multitudes, she had felt the very air dragged from her 
 nostrils, obliterating her individuality, routing her 
 courage, stunning her senses. She had stood a long 
 time, clinging to her meager sheltering, disheartened 
 at the fury at her feet, awed by the flaming ladders 
 to the impending stars no inanimate stones, but liv- 
 ing rocks, endlessly climbing, which must end by top- 
 pling over on her in an obliterating crash. New
 
 1 66 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 York! How different from what she had imagined 
 in the tugging, liberty-seeking aspirations of her 
 soul! 
 
 She had never lacked courage before, in all her ad- 
 venturous progress toward the Mecca of her dreams; 
 but that night she had been defeated, overwhelmed be- 
 fore the issue, even. She had come, sublimely con- 
 fident in a fanciful project she had conceived, a series 
 of impressions A Western Girl in New York 
 a western girl arriving undaunted, satchel in hand, 
 ten dollars in her purse, to seek fortune in the 
 great city of Mammon surely a daring story to 
 fill a woman's column. And she had gone to the 
 same Free Press, standing in the outer office, talk- 
 ing to a tired sub-editor, vainly striving to inter- 
 est him, to revive in herself a necessary spark of 
 enthusiasm and audacity which had expired in that 
 first brutal confrontation of the world in terms of 
 thousands. Yes, she had lost even before she had 
 opened her plea, convinced of the futility of making an 
 impression on those frantic halls, where her voice wasv 
 pitched not alone against the tired indifference of a 
 routine mind, but against the invading storm of outer 
 sounds, the clang of brazen bells, the honk of automo- 
 biles, the shaking rush of invisible iron forces tearing 
 through the air, the grinding roll of traffic over the 
 complaining cobblestones, the mammoth roar of the 
 populace endlessly washing reverberating shores. 
 
 She had talked and talked, without interruption, 
 clenching her fist, growing weaker and weaker, stum-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 167 
 
 bling in her phrases, until at last, convinced, without 
 waiting for an objection, she had stopped short, say- 
 ing : " It's no use, is it ? " 
 
 Then he had gone to a file of papers, and returning, 
 spread before her a gaily colored page, placing his fin- 
 ger on another face in silhouette, gay, jaunty. An- 
 other had had the same idea! How many others? 
 She was no longer an individual only one of a thou- 
 sand who came, with the same ideas, to face the same 
 struggle. 
 
 That first leaden closing of the doors of hope, as if 
 no other doors remained! And now she was to enter 
 that same Free Press, no longer daunted, clinging to a 
 satchel, but rolling luxuriously, triumphant : no longer 
 a suppliant, but amused, at the insistent invitation of 
 the chief, the genius of the machine, whom once she 
 had clamored so fruitlessly to see. Then and now. 
 . . . Harrigan Blood society itself, on which she 
 was to take a delicious revenge. She forgot Massin- 
 gale, remembering only a hopeless little figure, ready 
 for tears, standing, a tiny black dot against the elec- 
 tric windows of the press, gazing into the wilderness 
 of the strident crowded unknown. 
 
 A quick descent, a sudden volcanic propulsion up- 
 ward, and they were transferred a hundred feet above 
 strife, into a noisy anteroom, gazing down at the gray- 
 and-white tapestry of the spread city. 
 " Hello! What are you doing here? " 
 They turned. Estelle Monks, of the second floor
 
 1 68 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 front at Miss Pirn's, owner of the white fox stole and 
 the circulating garments, was standing beside them, 
 jauntily alert. 
 
 " Goodness' sakes, it's Estelle ! " exclaimed Ida. 
 " Well, what are you doing ? " 
 
 " Oh, I contribute," said Estelle evasively. 
 
 She was in a short tailored suit, Eton collar, Alpine 
 hat and feather. With her hands in her side pockets, 
 she was very direct, at ease, mannish, but not disagree- 
 ably so rather attractive with her dark eyes, which, 
 as Ida expressed it, had the " real come-hither " in 
 their mocking depths. 
 
 A boy came shuffling out, saying nasally: 
 
 " Mr. Blood will see you naow." 
 
 They left Estelle Monks indulging in a long whistle 
 of surprise, traversed a long chorus of clicking ma- 
 chines, and discovered a room of comparative quiet, 
 spacious, with embattled desks. Harrigan Blood was 
 waiting, a smile on his face as he fingered the huo 
 cards. 
 
 " Very nice of you to bring Miss Summers," he said 
 jerkily, making his own introduction. " Added pleas- 
 ure, I'm sure ! " 
 
 Dore, who had expected some show of irritation, 
 wondered in an amused way how he would manage 
 to procure. the tete-a-tete which she had just rendered 
 impossible. In ten minutes Blood, without seeming 
 to have considered the question, had resolved the knot 
 by calling in Tony Rex, one of the younger cartoon- 
 ists, a boyish person who eyed them with malicious 
 curiosity, and having consigned Ida to him for a tour
 
 THE SALAMANDER 169 
 
 of inspection, had availed himself of the first interval 
 to say: 
 
 " Come, you can see all this any time. You are not 
 going to get out of a talk with me by any such tricks." 
 
 She consented, laughing, to be led back. 
 
 " Why did you do this ? " he said, irritated. 
 
 "Do what?" 
 
 " Bring a governess ? " 
 
 " Because I'm a very proper person." 
 
 "It annoys me. I hate women who annoy me!" 
 he said abruptly. 
 
 She smiled in provoking silence, while, with a quick 
 excusing gesture, he lighted a cigar. 
 
 " You seem more natural here," she said, glancing at 
 his ruffled hair and careless tie. " I'd like to see you 
 at work." 
 
 He rose to get a copy of the editorial sheet for the 
 day, and handed it to her. 
 
 " You inspired that." 
 
 She took the editorial, which was entitled " Waste," 
 and ran down its heavily leaded phrases, smiling to 
 herself at these moralizations of the devil turned friar. 
 He saw her amusement, and took the editorial 
 abruptly. 
 
 ' You won't understand that's what I believe! " 
 
 He drew a chair opposite and flung into it; then, 
 with an erect stiffening of his body, clasped his hands 
 eagerly between his knees, releasing them in sudden 
 flights, returning them always to their tenacious grip. 
 There was something in the combustibility of the ges- 
 ture that was significant of the whole man.
 
 170 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " By George ! " he said suddenly, without relevancy, 
 " why haven't I the right to stretch out my hand and 
 take you?" 
 
 Dore burst out laughing, immensely flattered. 
 
 " What a nuisance you are! " he continued savagely. 
 " What good do you do in the world ? All you women 
 do is to interfere ! And to think that this sentimental 
 civilization idiotic civilization is going to experi- 
 ment for a few hundred years with pretending that 
 women are made to share the progress of the world 
 with men ! " 
 
 " So you're not a woman's " 
 
 " I'm absolutely against the whole feminine twad- 
 dle ! " he broke in. " Man's the only thing that counts ! 
 We're suffocated with feminism already over-senti- 
 mentalized; can't think but in the terms of an indi- 
 vidual." He stopped, and glaring at her, said, with 
 a furious gesture : " And now, here you are, an im- 
 pudent little girl who doesn't do the world a bit of 
 good, sitting back there and laughing contentedly be- 
 cause you've suddenly popped up to raise Cain 
 with me ! " 
 
 The originality of his attack delighted her. It 
 pleased her immensely to feel her attraction for such a 
 man, for it seemed to her a promise that with another 
 she would not lack charm and fascination. 
 
 " What a strange method of courting," she said de- 
 murely. "If that's the way you're going on, I think 
 I prefer to be shown the " 
 
 " The machines, of course," he cut in. " That's the 
 trouble with you. That's all they ever understand
 
 THE SALAMANDER 171 
 
 the things they see. But, my dear girl, / am the pa- 
 per ; all the rest is only wheels, chains, links ; every man 
 here is only part of the machine. I only am the in- 
 dispensable force." 
 
 He had found an idea, and was off on its exposition, 
 starting up, pacing and gesturing. 
 
 '' Yes, all the rest is only a machine. I can change 
 every bolt in twenty-four hours and it will go on just 
 the same. I pay a cartoonist twenty thousand dollars 
 a year, and he thinks he's indispensable; but I can 
 take another and make him famous in a month. I 
 give him the ideas ! Yes, they are lieutenants here 
 editors of Sunday supplements, special writers, wom- 
 en's columns, sporting experts. I can change 'em all, 
 take a handful of boys, and whip them into shape in 
 six weeks ! That's not journalism. What is ? I'll tell 
 you. Others have copied me; I found it out emo- 
 tions and ideas! You don't get it? Listen! They're 
 two heads : the news column and the editorial page." 
 
 He paused at the table, and taking up a paper, 
 struck it disdainfully. 
 
 "Trash! I know it! News? No! That's not 
 what the public wants ncL my public! It wants 
 fiction, it wants emotions! You don't know what the 
 multitude is; I do! A great sunken city, a million 
 stifling, starved existences, hurried through, rail- 
 roaded through life. News? Bah! They want a 
 taste of dreams ! I make their dreams live in my pa- 
 per. It's everything to them, melodrama, society, ro- 
 mance; it's a peep-hole into the worlds they can't 
 touch. I show 'em millionaires moving behind their
 
 172 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 house-walls, rolling in wealth, fighting one another, 
 battling for one another's wives, flinging a billion 
 against a billion, ruining thousands for a whim. 
 ' Monte Cristo ' ? It's tame to what I serve 'em. ' Mr. 
 X Gives a Hundred Thousand Dollar Lunch ' ' Se- 
 cret Drama of Oil Trust's Home ' ' Deserts Million- 
 aire Husband for Chauffeur ' ' Ten Millions in Five 
 Years ' ! That's life that's emotion ! That's what 
 makes 'em go on! Look here, did you ever stop to 
 think what does make the five million slaves go on, day 
 in and day out, driven, groaning? Hope! the belief 
 that in some miraculous way life is going to change." 
 
 He stopped, and with a drop to cold analysis, lay- 
 ing his hand on the editorial sheet, said : 
 
 " This is what does count. This is real ideas ! 
 The other is just tom-tom-beating to get the crowd 
 around yes, just that: the band outside the circus. 
 But this is different ; this is true. America, the future 
 the glorious future when I've stirred up their imag- 
 ination and taught them to think! There! Now do 
 you understand what kind of man I am ? " 
 
 She had understood one thing clearly, in this stu- 
 pendous flurry of egotism that, as Sassoon had 
 sought to tempt her with the lure of his wealth, Har- 
 rigan Blood was seeking to overwhelm her with the 
 brilliancy of his mind. She did not oppose him, seek- 
 ing flattery, needing fresh proofs of her power, think- 
 ing : " If he wants me, Massingale Massingale, 
 who is so clever and strong will want me too." 
 
 " You lunch with me," he said confidently. 
 
 She shook her head. " Previous engagement."
 
 THE SALAMANDER 173 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Tenafly's at one." 
 
 " Sassoon? " he said, sitting up with a jerk. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, with malice aforethought. 
 
 " What you're going to be caught by that whited 
 sepulcher ? " 
 
 " And you, Mr. Blood? " she said softly. 
 
 "I? I'm loyal!" 
 
 " But not monogamous." 
 
 " Sassoon only wants to be stung out of a lethargy. 
 Women I need them to help me. I have the right ! 
 That's why I want you ! " 
 
 " I'm not the kind you want," she said, drawing 
 back, for his precipitation gave her the feeling of being 
 crowded into a corner. 
 
 " You would if I could make you love me! " 
 
 "Indeed! Are you considering matrimony?" 
 
 " Never ! " he said angrily. " Marriage is a recip- 
 rocal tyranny. I don't want to own a woman, or have 
 her own me! What, you can have a career, and you 
 want to marry ? " 
 
 She defended herself, laughing, assuring him that 
 was not the case. 
 
 " You have your career ; I have mine. I'll educate 
 you ! Ten thousand men will give you money I'll 
 give you brains! My little girl, I wonder if you know 
 what opportunity is dangling on your little finger-tips. 
 Break your engagement ! " 
 
 "I can't!" 
 
 "Interested?" 
 
 "Um! Very curious. Certain sides are amus-
 
 174 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 ing!" Then she turned, assuming an air of dignity, 
 repeating her defensive formula : " Mr. Blood, I am 
 not like other girls. I play fair. I give one warning 
 and one only. Then take the consequences." 
 
 " What's your warning ? " he said abruptly, with a 
 bullish stare. 
 
 " You will lose your time," she said calmly. " You 
 think you know me. You may, and you may not. I 
 won't give you the slightest hint, but I tell you frankly 
 now, and only once, you will lose your time ! " 
 
 " But," he said contemptuously, " you don't know 
 what a real man is ! There's nothing real in your life. 
 I'm going to give you realities ! " 
 
 "How charming!" she said, shrugging her shoul- 
 ders. " And in the same breath you let me know it 
 won't last. Thanks; I don't enjoy being an episode! " 
 
 " That depends on you." 
 
 "Frank!" 
 
 " Don't you know," he said suddenly, coming toward 
 her, "what is true about a man like myself? yes, 
 about all men ? They say we're naturally polygamous. 
 Rats ! nothing of the sort ! We want to be true to one 
 woman only. Look here. The real tragedy in life is 
 that a man can't find in one woman all he wants, all 
 the time! " 
 
 At this moment, much to Dore's relief, Ida Sum- 
 mers and her companion returned. As they went out 
 to the elevator, Blood made another opportunity for a 
 final word: 
 
 " I haven't said half that I wanted to. When can 
 I get a chance really to talk with you ? "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 175 
 
 A malicious suggestion, prompted by some devil of 
 intrigue within her, suddenly rose in her imagination. 
 
 " Come and get me after luncheon." 
 
 " I thought you said you were lunching with Sas- 
 soon," he said suspiciously. 
 
 " I am. What of it? or don't you dare? " 
 
 He looked at her fixedly, divining her reason. 
 
 " I warned you to beware of me," she said de- 
 murely. " I love scenes dramatic temperament, 
 you know. Think how furious Sassoon will be! 
 Well?" 
 
 " What time? " he said, with a snap of his jaws. 
 
 " Oh, half past two." 
 
 "I'll come!"
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 TONY REX descended to place them in their au- 
 tomobile. He was a short youth in loose pep- 
 per-and-salt clothes, with a pointed nose and a 
 quantity of tow hair tumbling over a freckled fore- 
 head. Dore hardly noticed him. Not so Ida, who, 
 in true Salamander fashion, had already established a 
 permanent intimacy. 
 
 " Why did you desert me? " said Dore, with hypo- 
 critical severity, when they had left their escort, hat 
 in hand, on the curb. 
 
 " My dear, I couldn't help it ! " said Ida volubly. 
 " I was having such a wonderful party with Mr. Rex. 
 My dear, I'm crazy about him! Did you ever see 
 those funny little cartoons of his? Screams! Just 
 think of it, he comes from almost the same place I do ! 
 We've made a date for to-morrow. Lord! I do like 
 some one who talks English you can understand ! " 
 
 Dore, impatient to be home, fed her with rapture- 
 inciting questions and retired into her own specula- 
 tions. Chance had played her a trick. She had had 
 no intention of keeping her appointment with Sassoon ; 
 but now the dramatic possibilities of a clash between 
 her host and Harrigan Blood, which had risen out of 
 a light answer, had so whetted her curiosity that she 
 found herself in sudden perplexity. Her encounter 
 
 176
 
 THE SALAMANDER 177 
 
 with Blood had awakened in her all the mischievous, 
 danger-seeking enthusiasms. They had scarcely passed 
 half an hour, and yet he had left her breathless at his 
 breakneck pace, the abrupt charge of his attack, his 
 unconventionality, his stripping away of artifices. He 
 had interested her more than she had foreseen. 
 
 Yesterday how her eyes would have sparkled with 
 delight at having inveigled such a thrashing fish into 
 her cunning nets ! And even now it was hard to forego 
 the excitement of such a game. Her dramatic self, 
 once aroused by the tete-a-tete, was not easily sub- 
 dued. After all, too easy a compliance with Massin- 
 gale's ideas, too patient a waiting for his summons, 
 was dangerous. Better to teach him how sought after 
 was the prize. Besides, if she kept him waiting until 
 the evening, she could tell by the first glance of his 
 eyes how much he had suffered, how much he cared. 
 She did not doubt in the least that, when she reached 
 Miss Pirn's, there on the mahogany hall table she 
 would find his note; and blowing hot and cold, she 
 ended up by saying to herself that if in that letter 
 were things that could make her close her eyes with 
 delight, she might possibly, on a mad impulse, go fly- 
 ing off to him. Only, it would depend; there would 
 have to be things in that letter 
 
 When, at last, she went tumultuously into the 
 boarding-house, she ran through the heap of letters 
 twice fruitlessly. 
 
 " It came by messenger ; Josephus must have taken 
 it up-stairs," she thought. 
 
 She ran up breathlessly, anxious and yet afraid,
 
 i/8 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 flinging open the door, gazing blankly at the floor, 
 then ransacking rapidly the table, the bureau-tops, the 
 mantelpiece. Nothing had come he had not writ- 
 ten! She sat down furiously. She could not com- 
 prehend! On the table a great bouquet of orchids, 
 with " Pouffe " in golden letters on the purple ribbon, 
 was waiting. She saw it heedlessly. 
 
 He had not written! Why? She could not un- 
 derstand could find no explanation. How could 
 any one be so thoughtless, so cruel ? 
 
 "I will telephone him myself!" she thought an- 
 grily, springing up. 
 
 She went to the door precipitately, before she could 
 control herself. Then she stopped, wringing her 
 hands, shaking her head. Perhaps he had come in 
 person. She rang for Josephus. Had any one called ? 
 Had there been a message? None. Perhaps he had 
 telephoned, and Winona had made a note of it. She 
 went hastily to the pad where such notes were jotted 
 down. But the page, to her dismay, was blank. She 
 sat down quietly, folding her arms across her breast, 
 gazing out of the window. All at once she bounded 
 up, went rapidly down the hall, and entered Ida Sum- 
 mers' room. 
 
 " Come on. You're lunching with me. No ex- 
 cuses ! " 
 
 "Where? With whom?" 
 
 " Doesn't matter come ! I'll tell you later ! " 
 
 " Good heavens ! what's the matter, Do ? " 
 
 "Nothing! I'm a fool I don't know. Only 
 let's get out ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 179 
 
 Yes, she was a fool ! The explanation was obvious ! 
 While she had been soaring with her dreams, he had 
 gone quietly about his day. What had set her in a 
 whirl had meant nothing to him nothing at all! 
 And for the moment, forgetting what had happened, 
 forgetting how he had at the last returned, seeking 
 admittance, she said to herself bitterly that she must 
 have gone mad to imagine for an instant that there 
 had been anything more than a moment's amusement 
 between Judge Massingale and a crazy little fool liv- 
 ing in the third floor front of a cheap boarding-house. 
 
 " Now to do as I please," she said recklessly. 
 " We'll see if I'm of so little consequence. Sassoon 
 and Blood shall pay for this ! " 
 
 Ida Summers, overwhelmed at the prospect of meet- 
 ing Alfred Edward Sassoon, was excitedly clamoring: 
 
 " But, Do, heavens ! Give me a pointer ; I'll never 
 be able to say a word to a swell like that! What do 
 you talk about ? " 
 
 " Anything! " said Dore savagely. " What does he 
 care what you talk about! Or any of them! Look 
 him in the eyes, smile, flirt! Did you ever flirt with 
 a butcher's boy?" 
 
 "Heavens! Dodo!" 
 
 " Well, I did! They're all the same! " 
 
 "What's happened?" 
 
 Dore shrugged her shoulders. But by the time they 
 had drawn up in front of Tenafly's she had regained 
 her calm in a dangerous coldness bent on mischief. 
 
 Sassoon came up softly, looking questions at this 
 unexpected presentation of a third.
 
 i8o THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " I thought you would be more comfortable in 
 public this way, instead of tete-a-tete," said Dore 
 briefly, making the introduction. " You see how con- 
 siderate I am ! " 
 
 " Delighted, of course," said Sassoon, in his low 
 unvarying tones. " Don't you think we'd be better 
 up-stairs? " 
 
 " I said in the restaurant," answered Dore peremp- 
 torily. 
 
 Sassoon bowed, signaled a waiter, and led the way. 
 She had gone hardly twenty steps into the chattering 
 curious room, which stared at this public spectacle of 
 Sassoon, when her eye fell on the figure of Judge Mas- 
 singale. Their eyes met. She felt a sudden burn- 
 ing shame there before every one, wavered, and went 
 hurriedly to her seat. 
 
 He had seen her! What would he think? Would 
 he misunderstand her at seeing her thus publicly 
 flaunted by Sassoon? What awful conclusions might 
 not come into his mind at this persistent dogging of 
 her steps? And after what had happened last night, 
 with the memory of her blind clinging to him, the 
 soft confession of her voice, what would he think now? 
 Let him think what he wished, so long as he should 
 suffer a little! If he were here, he could have come 
 to her! If he were so mechanical, she would teach 
 him jealousy. 
 
 But these thoughts, timorous, elated, determined, ex- 
 pectant, were not clearly defined to her. She had a 
 sensation of fleeting emotions, utterly uncontrolled. 
 She began to chat rapidly without saying anything at
 
 THE SALAMANDER 181 
 
 all, seeking in the arrangement of the mirrors a fav- 
 orable angle. At last she saw his table, and the direct 
 confrontation of his stare. He was with a large party, 
 mixed, a dozen at the least, and he was still looking 
 in her direction. 
 
 " I don't care if he is furious," she thought defiantly. 
 "If he is furious, he cares! I shall see him talk 
 to him. He'll make an excuse ! " 
 
 She did not cease talking, but she did not hear a 
 word she said or notice what Sassoon replied. She 
 thought Ida was making grammatical errors in her ex- 
 cessive efforts to give the conversation dignity, and 
 from the bored nervous way in which Sassoon was 
 listening, she divined his fury at being thus circum- 
 vented. This pleased her. She wanted to be sure 
 that Massingale could be jealous, but, in some con- 
 fused way, she wanted Sassoon to be punished. 
 
 All at once in the mirror she saw Massingale rise 
 to take his leave. In another moment, surely, he would 
 turn as he came toward them. She would see him, 
 talk to him, look into his eyes. She began hurriedly, 
 frantically, laughing at nothing, to run from topic to 
 topic, gesturing to attract her own eyes to the table, 
 so that he might not perceive her agitation or know 
 the sinking of her heart as she felt him nearer and 
 nearer. 
 
 He was there, almost at her back, coming to her. 
 In a moment she would hear his voice, that deep con- 
 trolled tone, speaking her name. She was sure now 
 that she was blushing, that her sparkling eyes betrayed 
 her, that Sassoon, Ida surely, had guessed her agita-
 
 1 82 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 tion. But she did not care! She felt only an ex- 
 quisite happiness, a bodily glow. And all at once she 
 saw that he had passed without even an attempt to 
 catch her eye. He was in the doorway, and he was 
 gone! 
 
 Why? Was it anger that she should be there with 
 Sassoon? If it were only true! She tried to seize 
 upon this idea, but all her courage had evaporated. 
 She felt all at once without enthusiasm. If that were 
 so, then she was wrong; perhaps he would never be- 
 lieve her. 
 
 " That was Judge Massingale, wasn't it ? " she said 
 aimlessly. 
 
 Sassoon jerked his head in assent, adding viciously: 
 
 " Family affair. Gets out as soon as he can. Mrs. 
 Massingale entertaining some imported geniuses, prob- 
 ably." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Mrs. Massingale."
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 MRS. MASSINGALE ! Dore heard the name a 
 second time without quite realizing what it 
 meant, as if the sound were suspended in the air be- 
 fore her, waiting for recognition before taking flight. 
 She did not comprehend she could not comprehend ! 
 The thing was too incredible! 
 
 " Ah, Mrs. Massingale," she repeated mechanically. 
 
 All at once a sharp pain penetrated to her heart. 
 The riot of fork and knife, the busy live sounds of 
 conversation, were lost in a confused drumming in 
 her ears. Everything became blurred to her eyes, ex- 
 cept the mounting W of Sassoon's mustache and the 
 round eyes of Ida, which seemed to grow rounder and 
 bigger before her. She felt suddenly stricken, and 
 yet unable to cry out suffocated. She let her head 
 fall slowly, staring at the plate before her, a yellow 
 and red plate with a curious scroll design in the center. 
 No! She could not understand. It was not possible 
 that such a thing could befall her. Married! Mas- 
 singale married ! Blackness a wall a wall that 
 had no opening, that could not be scaled or turned. 
 
 A waiter was offering something at her side. She 
 nodded, taking up a fork, all quite mechanically. 
 
 Inside she felt a hand closing over her heart, con- 
 tracting it painfully. Then all at once she experi- 
 
 183
 
 1 84 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 enced a burning feeling of shame and anger across her 
 shoulders, on her cheeks, and on her lips where his 
 kisses had touched her. How she had been entrapped, 
 blindly, foolishly entrapped, caught and humiliated at 
 the last, despite all her cleverness! Now she under- 
 stood, in a flash of understanding, why he had not 
 come, why he had not written, why he had not tele- 
 phoned! He had gone further than he had meant. 
 It was his conscience he was fleeing from that con- 
 science he had forgot when he had returned to her 
 door! 
 
 " I understand ! I shall see him no more ! " a voice 
 said within her. " It's all over. It never was any- 
 thing!" 
 
 She felt within her the beginnings of many fierce 
 emotions despair, blinding anger, a fierce unrea- 
 soning desire for revenge, a revolt against the forces 
 that had tricked her. But these slumbering points of 
 fire did not leap up instantly. The shock that sud- 
 denly had arrested her very being, seemed to have ar- 
 rested the operation of her sensibilities : they did not 
 respond they were numbed. The realization was 
 staggering. She could not meet it; she rejected it, 
 striving to send it from her. She felt hurt, horribly, 
 weakly hurt; but she did not wish to acknowledge 
 what had happened. She only knew, in a groping 
 way, that something horrible had suddenly fallen on 
 her out of a clear sky something that meant the 
 end of all things, the lurking tragedy in her life: 
 something that she would, perhaps, never, never live 
 down!
 
 THE SALAMANDER 185 
 
 All at once she began to talk, looking at Sassoon 
 with a dangerous provoking light in her eyes, her 
 cheeks unnaturally flushed, reckless and defiant. 
 
 " Poor Mr. Sassoon ! Ida, look at him. Did you 
 ever see a man so miserable? He's furious at me. 
 He was counting on such a confidential, intimate lit- 
 tle luncheon! It really is a shame to play him such 
 a trick ! But I warned him I always play fair. I 
 told him he was no match for us ! " She laughed at 
 his puzzled expression, rushing on : " Really, though, 
 you should conceal your feelings better. You should 
 learn from women. We never show what we feel ! " 
 
 Did she show what was tearing at her heart ? She 
 wondered. She did not care! There was nothing 
 but injustice in the world. What had she done to de- 
 serve such a blow? If she had to suffer, others 
 should suffer too! Sassoon's eyes were lighting up, 
 tantalized by this frantic savagery in the woman. She 
 saw the look, and laughed at it, knowing the bit- 
 terness she had reserved for him. Now she was 
 scarcely polite to him, mocking him to his face, ea- 
 gerly awaking within him the demons of covetousness 
 and revenge. 
 
 " What has happened to her?" thought Ida, watch- 
 ing her anxiously. 
 
 " Pretty little devil, she'll pay for this ! " thought 
 Sassoon, blinking at her, his arms before him, rub- 
 bing the back of his soft hands with his quiet, com- 
 bustibly patient gesture. 
 
 " Ah, there's Mr. Blood at last ! " Dodo cried, all at 
 once. " Now it will be more amusing ! "
 
 186 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 She waited tremulously the meeting of the two men 
 these two who should pay so dear to her what she 
 had received in injustice. 
 
 Sassoon did not rise. He shot a searching angry 
 glance at Dore, closed one hand tightly over the other 
 and raised his eyebrows in interrogation at the new- 
 comer. 
 
 " Quarter of three," said Blood, standing, and 
 barely nodding to Sassoon. " I've been waiting 
 fifteen minutes that's quite enough. Miss Baxter, 
 you belong to me now ! " 
 
 " Oh, is it as late as that? " 
 
 " Is Mr. Blood here on your invitation, Miss Bax- 
 ter ? " said Sassoon deliberately. 
 
 " Yes. We had an engagement for a ride up the 
 river. I'm afraid I've kept him waiting." 
 
 " Turn about is fair play," said Harrigan Blood ag- 
 gressively. 
 
 The looks the two men exchanged said what their 
 meaningless phrases concealed. 
 
 Ida Summers, not in the secret, yet scenting compli- 
 cations, remained watching, puzzled and a little ap- 
 prehensive. 
 
 " My turn later then," said Sassoon, with perfect 
 politeness. He smiled a little, but it was a malicious 
 smile. 
 
 " He detests me now," thought Dore, with a first 
 curious unease at this controlled oriental passion, stub- 
 born, willing to wait endlessly. 
 
 She was right. The humiliation which he accepted 
 calmly, with an inward raging, had roused the brute
 
 THE SALAMANDER 187 
 
 within him, but not the brute that gives up the hunt. 
 To run her down at the last, to have the woman 
 whom he curiously hated and desired, who hated and 
 resisted him, but could not resist beyond the tempta- 
 tions he would spread that was a passion worth 
 any amount of money; that alone could make money 
 precious to him. 
 
 " I may at least be permitted to accompany you to 
 the door," he said, showing his white, sharp little 
 teeth in a well-constructed smile, surprising them by 
 his self-possession. " I am glad to know Mr. Har- 
 rigan Blood is a rival; it simplifies matters, doesn't 
 it?" 
 
 " Yes, bandit," said Blood, making the sign of 
 drawing a knife. 
 
 Sassoon having helped Dore into her coat, stood 
 holding her hand. 
 
 " What consoles me is that I am sure Mr. Harrigan 
 Blood is no more a match for you than I am ! " Then 
 he added imperturbably, looking her boldly in the 
 eyes: "You are very beautiful. You have a right 
 to be as tantalizing as you like! I shan't object in 
 the least! Give me credit, pretty little tigress, for 
 being quite submissive ! " 
 
 " Lordy, I think you're an angel, Mr. Sassoon," 
 said Ida Summers, who was sentimental, and who had 
 the advantage of completely missing the situation. 
 
 : ' Your sympathy is very consoling , Miss Sum- 
 mers," said Sassoon curtly, turning on his heel. 
 
 He went evenly to the telephone booth and called up 
 his confidential broker:
 
 1 88 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Humphreys, I want you to get me a little infor- 
 mation very quietly." 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Sassoon?" 
 
 " Find out what is the extent of Mr. Harrigan 
 Blood's holdings in the stock market. I want com- 
 plete information, especially as to what he is holding 
 on margins. Treat the matter as absolutely confi- 
 dential!"
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 IDA SUMMERS insisted on departing on her own 
 ways, laughingly proclaiming that if she couldn't 
 be provided with an adorer she wasn't going to sit by 
 for a second time and spoil the fun. Dore let her go 
 without protest. She did not care now. Her head 
 ached. She could not collect her thoughts could 
 not place before her what had happened. That 
 everything had suddenly ceased, that in the cataclysm 
 her youth, her dreams, her joy in being, were swal- 
 lowed up, she knew. Something had happened, and 
 yet she could not distinctly perceive it. 
 
 They went rushing up the crowded driveway, and 
 on along the open Hudson, hour after hour. The 
 man at her side, leaning forward eagerly, facing her, 
 talked incessantly talked to her as a man does only 
 when he seeks to unfold all that he has to impress a 
 woman. She answered correctly; she even heard 
 phrases and repeated them mechanically, seeking to 
 comprehend them. 
 
 ''' You are more than life you are youth itself. 
 I don't know why every reason you attract me, 
 but I know I'm groping for you ! 
 
 " Yes, it's youth, youth, a man like myself needs 
 the feeling of youth again, the daring of youth, im- 
 petuous, magnificent. That's what you can give me! 
 
 189
 
 190 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 "I'll give everything not by half measures; I 
 want you to know all I'm holding back. You'll know 
 the greatest joy in the world, of sharing everything! " 
 
 Once he took her hand. Then she turned, and 
 without withdrawing the fingers, which felt no sensa- 
 tion, said: 
 
 "Don't do that!" 
 
 And he obeyed. 
 
 She listened, seeking only the sadness in the sky, 
 the melancholy of isolated and distant things. She 
 knew her heart was broken, that nothing could ever 
 exist for her again. No, never could she feel a pal- 
 pitating joy ; it would all be gray and brown brown 
 and gray as the worn hills about her, nature, which 
 had forgot its May! And at the same time she 
 listened, smiling and provocative, to this other man 
 who passionately courted her, laying open his inner- 
 most soul for her inspection a man who proclaimed 
 again and again that she drew him to her by the glow 
 of her youth and the joy of life. 
 
 That afternoon was like a phantasmagoria. Even 
 he, at the end, noticed her mental numbness. 
 
 " What's the matter with you ? " he asked. 
 
 She looked at him, smiling negation. 
 
 " You seem crushed, as if I could stick a pin in you! 
 What's wrong? Has that beast Sassoon in- 
 sulted?" 
 
 She shook her head. Even this incongruity did not 
 penetrate. 
 
 " Listen ! " he went on, retaining her hand as she
 
 THE SALAMANDER 191 
 
 started to descend. " I'm not a fool ! I won't throw 
 myself away on any woman ! I'll play fair, too, and 
 open. I don't want backing and pulling I want 
 things to be big, direct, honest! You know what I 
 feel; you know what I'm capable of feeling! Don't 
 you?" 
 
 She smiled and nodded, without comprehending in 
 the least. She was thinking, with a desperate long- 
 ing, of the shelter of her room, still so far away. 
 
 " Very well. I'm going to see you once more," he 
 said abruptly. " Then it's for you to decide. If you 
 want me to come," he hesitated to give full em- 
 phasis, " it's for you to send for me ! " 
 
 She remembered the ultimatum afterward. Now 
 she murmured something commonplace. 
 
 He caught her hand. 
 
 " Can't you tell me now? " 
 
 " What ? " she said, striving to recall his meaning. 
 
 " Do you want me to come ? Is it your wish ? " 
 
 " Why yes, why not ? " she answered mechanic- 
 ally nor did she see what leaped into his eyes. 
 
 She went hurriedly up the stoop and in. Suddenly 
 she had the feeling that she used to have when she 
 had left the tense concentrated glare of the footlights 
 and passed into the relief of the shadowy wings. 
 The smiles fled from her lips, the nervous provocative 
 mask dropped away. She felt a mortal heaviness of 
 accomplishment. She had lasted through the after- 
 noon; she had not betrayed herself. Half-way up the 
 second flight, she sat down abruptly, exhausted ; then,
 
 192 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 straining every nerve in her body, she reached the 
 haven of her room, as a spent swimmer battling for 
 the shore. 
 
 Then a new trial. From behind her door came the 
 sound of voices. Again she took up her mask. The 
 next moment Winona had sprung to her, embracing 
 her feverishly, crying: 
 
 " I've got it! I've got it, you darling! " 
 
 " Ah Blainey," she said, suffering her embrace. 
 
 But Winona, not to be prevented, continued hug- 
 ging her frantically, babbling everything, all in a 
 breath, frantic with joy and relief Winona, whom 
 the night before she had held sobbing in her arms, 
 who to-day was the deliriously happy one! 
 
 Then she saw Snyder standing apart, and at her 
 skirts a little girl, half child, half baby, clinging, shyly 
 revolted. As soon as Dore saw her, she went for- 
 ward impulsively, kneeling and holding out her arms. 
 The child, with the divining instinct of childhood to- 
 ward suffering, to the amazement of the others, ran 
 swiftly into her embrace. Dore carried her to a 
 chair, holding her head from her, looking into the 
 starry eyes. 
 
 "What's your name?" 
 
 " Betty." 
 
 From that moment she forgot the others. The 
 room seemed narrowed to their embrace, each cling- 
 ing to the other. These arms, so warm against her 
 neck, this soft weight against her breast, filled her 
 with immeasurable awakening sadness, but a sadness 
 that deadened the consciousness of self, as if this in-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 193 
 
 nocence were the only affection that could understand, 
 the only one that could minister to her pain! This 
 helplessness pressing against her breast recalled her 
 poignant childhood, unmothered yet often in passion- 
 ate grief groping for maternal arms. If only now 
 she could go in weakness, somewhere to confide her 
 crushed body weakly as a wounded child! If only 
 the others would go and leave her thus 
 
 How long she remained thus she did not know. 
 Winona went, returned and departed. All at once 
 Snyder was standing above them, saying : 
 
 " Sorry time's up ! Young one must be getting 
 home to roost ! " 
 
 She took her convulsively to her breast. She did 
 not know whether it soothed or hurt her more; only 
 that it started within her a passionate hunger for this 
 innocence that responded, this incomprehension that 
 understood! She rose abruptly. 
 
 " Bring her often often ! " she said, turning 
 away her face. 
 
 A knock at the door, and the black hand of Jose- 
 phus extending a letter. 
 
 She knew at once whose letter it was; no need to 
 look! She clutched it, hiding it against her dress. 
 Betty, clinging to her skirts, indignant at her change 
 of mood, clamored for recognition. She bent over, 
 kissed her swiftly, laughed. Then she was alone. 
 
 She looked at the letter, but she did not open it. 
 Instead, she placed it on a table, locked the doors, and 
 clutching her hands until the nails cut in, began to 
 pace the floor.
 
 I 9 4 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 If he had dared to seek another meeting! 
 
 She felt a hot indignant anger wrapping her whole 
 body. She would show him her scorn! At one mo- 
 ment she was on the point of tearing up the letter un- 
 read, at the next of sending it back contemptuously. 
 At the end she opened it and read : 
 
 "Dear Miss Baxter: 
 
 " I was out of my head. ... I should have known my limita- 
 tions. ... I didn't. I am very sorry, and I only am to blame. 
 Some later day I want to be your good friend. . . . Do you un- 
 derstand? 
 
 " With great respect, 
 
 " L. M." 
 
 When she had read this unexpected renunciation, 
 she forgot all her anger, all her resistance. 
 
 " He will never see me again ! " she said, with a 
 sob, pressing the letter convulsively against her tears. 
 
 She needed no second reading to understand that. 
 She put the crumpled sheet into her waist, striking 
 her temples with her little fists as she had once struck 
 him, repeating: 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 In this moment she no longer had any doubts. She 
 loved him madly, with an intensity that obliterated 
 everything else. And now all this must be strangled ; 
 for, in her strange self- formed morality, such a love 
 was unthinkable. The only man who had known 
 how to take her, to see through her acting, to reach 
 out roughly, brutally, like a master this man be- 
 longed to another woman ; was barred to her for- 
 ever!
 
 THE SALAMANDER 195 
 
 " What have I done ? Why why should I be 
 punished this way?" 
 
 Suddenly she seized a chair, and dragging it to the 
 side window, sat down, her chin in her hands, staring 
 through the glass at the sheer blankness of brick 
 only a few feet away. It was beginning to be 
 dusk. She felt herself caught; she yielded every- 
 thing. The thought of pain was so abhorrent to her 
 nature, she had always rushed so fearfully from the 
 contact of suffering, that, now when she was caught 
 without escape, everything crumbled. In this abject 
 moment, as her body yielded to the pervading process 
 of the dusk, she turned back over the entangled prog- 
 ress of her life, convinced that she was paying fear- 
 fully in retribution for selfishness and wickedness. 
 
 Life, which rises out of the past in its naked pro- 
 portions only when we dumbly seek a reason for the 
 calamity that overwhelms us, came thus to her as a 
 conviction. What had happened must be her punish- 
 ment. 
 
 She saw her progress as though she were looking 
 down at great revolving spirals, complete in them- 
 selves, yet merging in an upward progress. How 
 many men not by tens, but by scores she had 
 deliberately used in her upward striving! 
 
 " Yes ; this is my punishment ! " she said breath- 
 lessly. She had a feeling that they the others 
 were now to be revenged. 
 
 She had only a faint impression of her home in a 
 little village town of Ohio. Home it had never been.
 
 196 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 Her father, brilliant, erratic, emigrant from New 
 England, half politician, half journalist, had suddenly 
 disappeared from her life when she was not yet in her 
 teens. They had told her many things at the time. 
 Afterward she had divined what must have happened 
 
 unhappiness, flight with another woman, divorce. 
 Her mother, perhaps the most to blame, had remarried 
 immediately. She had known nothing of her step- 
 father, only that he was some one in power in Ciacin- 
 nati politics, and well-off. She had been left to the 
 care of an aunt, and very soon she had realized that 
 her duty in life was to make her own way. 
 
 And this way she had achieved, or rather had made 
 others achieve for her. She had been precocious, 
 feeling herself a little mongrel who must captivate 
 by its tricks. How simple it had all been this curi- 
 ous spiral mounting from the pillared house at the cor- 
 ner of the village green, through various strata, to this 
 
 to New York, and to the heart of New York at the 
 last! She could never remember the time when she 
 had not had the devotion of the opposite sex. No one 
 had ever needed to teach her the art of pleasing, yet 
 she had known how to exercise it everywhere. She 
 remembered curious odd figures, girlhood admirers, 
 whom she blushed now to have cared even to attract. 
 How her ideas had changed ! How she had been edu- 
 cated ! And how many different types of men she had 
 known! At first it had been the grocery clerk, a 
 ruddy Saxon, who had cut prices and swollen meas- 
 ures, fatuously, for her sake ; then a young engineer on 
 the railroad who had appealed to her imagination ; lit-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 197 
 
 tie storekeepers, a local reporter, the captain of the 
 village nine a giant in those days : not singly, but a 
 dozen at once at her feet. 
 
 Next she had gone to high school in Toledo, where 
 for the first time she had judged her local admirers by 
 the standards of the city, a metropolis to her. There 
 it had been another upward circle students in the 
 university, young lawyers, scrub doctors, embryo mer- 
 chants, demigods by comparison. This first taste of 
 the life of the city had decided her. She returned to 
 her home but once to leave it forever. She had 
 sought a little capital and had obtained a few hundred 
 dollars. There she had learned that her mother had 
 been divorced, married again, and that it was quite 
 hopeless to apply to her. She had had an enormous 
 success on that return, with her city clothes and her im- 
 posing manners. The grocer's clerk had given up in 
 despair at first sight ; the others had hung back awed, 
 realizing that she was not stuff for them. And here 
 she had taken her first confidence, her first belief in her 
 star in her star, which was not stationary, but which 
 should travel. 
 
 She had given, as excuse against the frantic objec- 
 tions of her aunt, that she must prepare herself to earn 
 her living by stenography. She started zealously to 
 equip herself, going to Cleveland and taking a modest 
 hall bedroom at four dollars a week, board included. 
 She continued firm in this resolve for exactly two 
 weeks. But application was against her volatile na- 
 ture. Besides, her masculine acquaintance had as- 
 sumed such proportions that she could find no time for
 
 198 THE SALAMANDER , 
 
 work. And suddenly she had met Josh Nebbins, press- 
 agent for a local theater. 
 
 She had been attracted to him immediately by his 
 shoes patent leather with chamois tops, that looked 
 like spats and distinguished him from the common 
 herd. He wore a colored handkerchief in his breast- 
 pocket, English style, red or green shirts, and coats 
 with curious pointed cuffs, which she felt only a New 
 York tailor could have imagined. He had had the 
 greatest influence on her life. He had shown her the 
 easy way to things people coveted, analyzing the phil- 
 osophy of her sex with his shrewd philosophy of life, 
 contemptuous, successful and witty. 
 
 " Play the game, kid play the game," he would 
 say to her. " The world's full of soft suckers ready 
 to fall for a pretty pair of lamps, and yours are Ai 
 flashers. Make 'em give you what you want! Fol- 
 low my tips and I'll show you how. And say, don't 
 for one moment think you have to give up anything 
 for what you get. No, sir, not Anno Domini, U. S. 
 Ameriky ! " 
 
 She had taken his tips, followed his leads. She had 
 soon learned how to acquire whatever she needed. If 
 it was a dress, there was always an admirer in a whole- 
 sale store who frantically insisted on the privilege of 
 making a present. Another placed a carriage at her 
 disposal, grateful for the privilege of her company 
 when it pleased her. Other presents were easily con- 
 vertible. 
 
 Nebbins had even changed her name. She had 
 been called Flossie, a contraction from Florence. He
 
 THE SALAMANDER 199 
 
 had disapproved and invented Dore, and she had ac- 
 cepted enthusiastically. She had a strange intuition 
 that what he did would result for her good, and obeyed 
 implicitly yes, with even an uneducated admiration. 
 They had become engaged. She would have mar- 
 ried him, but he was too much in love not to be proud. 
 He wanted three thousand in the bank, and so they 
 had waited. 
 
 Through his offices, she had begun as a super in the 
 local stock company, advancing to an occasional speak- 
 ing part. She had been at home at once on the stage ; 
 she felt born for this. The next season she had entered 
 another stock company playing a circuit, as a regular 
 member. She had wept desperately on leaving Neb- 
 bins, completely under his ascendency. She had even 
 offered at the last moment to throw up everything and 
 marry him. He had refused honestly. She had not 
 seen him since. 
 
 This memory tortured her. She had soon pro- 
 gressed to where she had seen him in true perspective, 
 or rather in his ridiculous lights. She quickly grew 
 ashamed of the romance. It was something she 
 would have blotted from her life, the more so because 
 at the bottom she felt an obligation, and it revolted 
 her to think that what she was become had, at a criti- 
 cal moment, depended on a Yankee press-agent named 
 Josh Nebbins, who wore ridiculous patent leather/ 
 shoes with chamois tops ! 
 
 She was ashamed, and at the same time she was 
 afraid afraid lest at some time this persistent man, 
 to whom her word had once indiscreetly been given,
 
 200 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 should surge up out of the past and claim her! He 
 had been the only man from whom she had ever di- 
 rectly accepted money. It had not been much, a 
 hundred dollars given as a reserve ; they were engaged 
 to be married; he had silenced her objections, but 
 still the fact remained. She had a thousand times 
 resolved to pay it back to rid herself of this fetter 
 of the past. She had never done so. This was her 
 greatest reproach. 
 
 From Nebbins on, the way had not been difficult. 
 She had never saved much money, nor continued long 
 in one opportunity; but she had learned confidence, 
 and how easy opportunities rise for a pretty girl with 
 audacity and wit. But always, in her progress from 
 city to capital, from capital to metropolis, she felt a 
 shadowy crowd of men, reproachful and embittered. 
 She had never been affected by the pangs she had 
 awakened, nor paused to think that there could be any 
 wrong in using whatever presented itself to her 
 never before. But to-night, alone, facing her first de- 
 feat, revolted and stricken, she felt guilty horribly 
 guilty; and as her faith was simple, and God had al- 
 ways appeared to her as a good friend, she sought His 
 reasons in her past, and said to herself: 
 
 " Yes; that is why it has come that is why I am 
 punished ! Oh, I must be very wicked ! " 
 
 In this conviction, her offending seemed to her 
 enormous, unending. From the day of her arrival in 
 New York until now, she felt that she had never been 
 anything but selfish, cruel, mercenary and calculating. 
 No! Certainly she had not scrupled to use men . . .
 
 THE SALAMANDER 201 
 
 and what men she had known, had availed herself 
 of, climbed above, and discarded. Now the smoke 
 wreaths of her progress swirled more rapidly, thickly 
 revolving, mounting more slowly. She had found her 
 dinners in humble restaurants, paid for in half-dollars 
 by young men already pinched in the struggle of sal- 
 aries, young men in whom that spark of hope of which 
 Harrigan Blood had spoken burned heedlessly 
 dreaming a miraculous future and the winning of an- 
 other Helen. Next it was the coarse world of the the- 
 ater and the restaurants heavy sated types of men, 
 demanding their brutal pay, men who disgusted her, 
 with whom she could not share the same air, danger- 
 ous antagonists. Another swirl, another chance oppor- 
 tunity, and she was out of the contagion, unscotched, 
 meeting at last men of good manners, gentlemen in 
 name and often in heart. What an incredible prog- 
 ress it had been ! She saw few faces distinctly, but in 
 the covetous, brutal, chivalrous, or adoring crowd she 
 remembered here and there a look, a word, something 
 that had struck her by its ridicule, by its cruelty, or in- 
 clined her to a sudden- gentleness. 
 
 She, too how she had changed through all this! 
 How ridiculous had been her early admirations, how 
 childish her ambitions! What a change had come 
 within an education of all her tastes, a desire for 
 the beautiful, a longing for refinement, a need of 
 distinction to respond to her abiding sense of delicacy. 
 
 Yes; to acquire all this she had done much harm, 
 inflicted useless pain on many. But now retribution 
 had come, inexorable. That she had never thought of
 
 202 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 that she too could suffer. And she did suffer, ab- 
 jectly, hopelessly, sitting there pressed against the 
 window-frame, staring at the unseen wall across which 
 the figures of the past went swirling down in long re- 
 volving spirals, like the slow undulating swirls of 
 smoke. There was no way out. She would never 
 see him again he would never seek her. She was 
 accursed, punished for all past wickedness, singled out 
 for tragedy by fate. 
 
 What now could become of her. What could she 
 fall back on? Who could help her? She was horri- 
 bly alone and afraid. 
 
 That night she dreamed a terrible dream. She 
 was dining at Tenafly's in the midst of a great com- 
 pany. Massingale was there. By some strange turn, 
 Mrs. Massingale did not exist; instead, it seemed to 
 her that he was bending over her saying : 
 
 " It's all a mistake. I'm not married ; I've never 
 been married. That was my brother's wife. You 
 are to be Mrs. Massingale. Do you understand? 
 That's why every one is here ! " 
 
 She had looked around and seen so many faces: 
 Sassoon, with his mounting mustache; Mrs. Sassoon, 
 judging her through a lorgnette; Lindaberry, De 
 Joncy, Mr. P'eavey, who was wiping his eyes with a 
 handkerchief, Busby, Stacey even. 
 
 All at once some one was standing at her side, 
 some one who wore patent leathers with chamois tops, 
 
 and Josh Nebbins, in a purple shirt and green and
 
 THE SALAMANDER 203 
 
 black check suit, derby on one side, was grinning at 
 her, saying: 
 
 " Hello, kid ! Here I am. Made my wad. Come 
 to get you ! " 
 
 Next she was on the edge of a precipice. Some one 
 had his arms about her, holding her back, and some 
 one else was trying to pull her over. 
 
 She was crying: 
 
 " Don't let him throw me over. Don't, please ! I'll 
 love you, only you, Your Honor ! " 
 
 But, to her surprise, it was not Massingale who was 
 trying to save her ; it was Lindaberry. 
 
 And the man who had her by the arm, pulling her 
 over, she could not see; only she could see far down, 
 hundreds of miles, to a little thread of a stream. 
 Stones were slipping under her feet; she was going 
 over; and all at once she looked up. A pair of patent 
 leathers with chamois tops ! It was Josh Nebbins. 
 
 She awoke with a scream.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE next morning she resolved to go at once to 
 Blainey, to fling herself heart and soul into her 
 profession, to get an engagement in some stock com- 
 pany. She hesitated, and ended by putting it off till 
 the next day. She said to herself that she must seek 
 relief in flight, a new life, new friends for a month at 
 least, until she should be stronger. She said it to her- 
 self each day, and each day she tarried. Perhaps she 
 hoped for some sign of weakness on Massingale's 
 part, an overture that would give her the confidence of 
 a scornful rejection. But each day passed without 
 word or sign from him. This firmness, this regained 
 control, this one man who could steadfastly avoid her, 
 obsessed her. She sought not to think of him and 
 his image intruded itself every day, at every moment. 
 When the telephone rang its always mysterious call, 
 she went to it with a tense arrestation of her nerves 
 expectant of his voice, fearing hoping. At the the- 
 ater or the opera, in her first sweeping glance over the 
 audience, it was always his face she sought. She 
 sought it in the chances of the crowded streets, and 
 with a restless glance searched among the carriages 
 as she passed alone, or in gay company, up the avenue. 
 She knew where he held court, following the calendar 
 in the newspaper, and often she was tempted to steal 
 
 204
 
 THE SALAMANDER 205 
 
 in at the back of the dim, crowded court room, unob- 
 served just why, with what undefined hope, she did 
 not know. This impulse she resisted but never con- 
 fidently conquered. Each day she repeated that she 
 must go; each day she tarried. 
 
 For two weeks she led a dulled and purposeless ex- 
 istence. She succeeded in crowding the day, in shut- 
 ting out opportunity for thought, in consuming the 
 night so as to return with enough fatigue to fall into 
 heavy troubled slumber. The bright moments were 
 those when she went with Snyder's little girl on brief 
 excursions into the country, for a moment's forgetful- 
 ness among the woods, an hour of willing slavery to 
 childish whims, throwing herself into foolish romping 
 games that brought a comforting sense of the world's 
 unrealities. The sensation that childish clinging 
 brought her at times surprised her by its intensity. 
 She had never thought of having children, and yet this 
 child awoke strange yearnings. Troubled, she told 
 herself that it was the weakness of her suffering inten- 
 sified by loneliness, and satisfied herself with this reply. 
 
 Her days were curiously divided. She saw Harri- 
 gan Blood and Sassoon, but to their assiduous pursuit 
 she flung only crumbs. She saw them in the tantaliz- 
 ing publicity of the down-stairs parlor rarely, for an 
 hour perhaps ; but she steadfastly refused further con- 
 cessions. Busby, clearly inspired, sought to entice her 
 to many alluring entertainments, some conventional, 
 others not quite so. She refused all. She avoided all 
 parties where she might encounter the one man, avoid- 
 ing too that entourage of his which she had so eagerly
 
 206 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 sought with a sense of right on the occasion of the 
 luncheon to De Joncy. 
 
 Instead, she sought desperately to return to the 
 light bantering existence she had formerly known. 
 The glimpses she had had into the upper world fright- 
 ened her. It laid before her crude vanities which she 
 would have preferred to ignore ; it started temptations 
 where she had been conscious of none. In her present 
 depression, an instinct bade her flee all that dazzled 
 her ; a voice whispered to her that, in the mad impulses 
 of a groping despair, she might not always resist, or 
 care to resist that it were better not to know that 
 luxury and power lay so easily at hand, ready on the 
 feminine fingers of Sassoon or the imperious clutch of 
 Harrigan Blood. 
 
 Nor was the temptation a fancied one, for the hun- 
 ger that had awakened was an inner one. In her short 
 glimpse of luxury she had become aware of new long- 
 ings, material cravings, vanities of the flesh. Occa- 
 sionally in the mornings, to escape from her moods, 
 she went out for long walks past tempting shop-win- 
 dows those shop-windows of New York, more dev- 
 astating than all the flesh hunters, on whose balances 
 lie how many feminine souls ! She would stop breath- 
 lessly, hypnotized, hanging on visions of gorgeous 
 silks, imperial furs, opera-cloaks that might transform 
 a peasant into a queen, jewels that danced before her 
 eyes, fascinating them strangely with their serpentine 
 coldness. 
 
 She could not prevent her lawless imagination from 
 wandering, visualizing another Dore Baxter, who
 
 THE SALAMANDER 207 
 
 swept gorgeously among the costly women of the 
 opera and the restaurants, compelling a startled atten- 
 tion, luxuriant, radiant, triumphant with the sinister 
 blinking eyes of Sassoon always over her glowing 
 shoulder. What constantly started this torturing 
 image before her was that she had now no doubt as to 
 what she could do with him. At first, incredulously, 
 she could not believe that his interest would survive a 
 week that he would not depart furiously, once the 
 scales had fallen from his hungry glance and he had 
 realized that in her mocking society nothing was re- 
 served for him but humiliation and deception. But, to 
 her amazement, she found it was not so ; that something 
 had penetrated profoundly into that chilled soul, and 
 that the passion which had been kindled was one that 
 sweeps men on to irretrievable follies, unthinkable sac- 
 rifices, at the hands of a calm woman. Sassoon no. 
 But Sassoon and the lure of a thousand shop-windows 
 spreading before her their soft enwrapping mysteries 
 of splendor. . . . Occasionally, gazing entranced be- 
 fore some bewildering evening gown, a peignoir all 
 lace and cloud, a rope of milky pearls, she felt this 
 sensation so compellingly that she would retreat 
 breathlessly, trembling from head to foot. 
 
 What made the temptation doubly insidious was her 
 own awakened point of view. She saw now the im- 
 mense difference in scale between the upper world 
 and the semi-Bohemian state of the Salamanders. 
 Their desperate struggle to make both ends meet, their 
 prodigies of imaginative planning, their campaigns of 
 economy, all to procure a few insignificant dollars
 
 208 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 this struggle of wits which had once exhilarated her 
 now depressed her fearfully. She had a sort of sec- 
 ond sight; she saw now the approach of failure, the 
 inexorable famine that lay beyond the short dominion 
 of youth. She had always dimly perceived this dan- 
 ger, saying to herself that she could cast the die be- 
 fore another cast it for her. But now, thinking of her 
 twenty-third year still six months away, she had a 
 feeling as if she were being hurried toward her choice, 
 frantically driven ; and yet, she could not see where all 
 this whirlwind force was carrying her. 
 
 At this moment her mentality began. She felt a 
 new birth of her reason that unquiet searching of 
 the self so often child of grief. She began to question 
 to analyze and to strive to penetrate the future. 
 She saw herself in others, the past and the possible 
 future : Ida Summers, arriving like a skipping child, 
 all heedless laughter, inconscient, holding out avid 
 arms for flowers, and Winona, a figure with half 
 averted face, hand upon the latch, ready to depart. 
 No, she would not be like Winona; that was impossi- 
 ble, she said, with a shudder; Winona was but a fig- 
 ure standing as a warning! 
 
 Winona herself, occupied with rehearsals, went out 
 of her day, momentarily. Dore took her to the opera 
 on the Monday nights that Mr. Peavey had placed at 
 her disposal. She never made the mistake of seeking 
 a male escort. She felt always that Peavey's timid 
 eyes were on her, hidden somewhere in that vast con- 
 course, spying on her actions, waiting suspiciously to 
 see if her companion were a man, a young and ardent
 
 THE SALAMANDER 209 
 
 man of her own generation. Nor was this entirely 
 surmise. The second Monday, he had loomed at her 
 side out of nowhere, happiness in his eyes, radiant to 
 find her so discreetly accompanied. He had taken 
 them to supper afterward. It seemed to her that Wi- 
 nona had put herself out to attract him excessively 
 so, considering her proprietorship ; for the etiquette of 
 Salamanders is imperious on such points. But then, 
 Winona was in a curious mood, brooding, gay by 
 starts and as suddenly silent. Dore sometimes won- 
 dered if things were working out well at the theater. 
 In her determination to resist this life Massin- 
 gale's world, into which she had blundered so unluck- 
 ily she turned hungrily to the company of the other 
 Salamanders, with a new need of woman's sympathy 
 and understanding. Besides Winona and Ida, there 
 were on the floor below Estelle Monks, whom she 
 knew well and Clarice Stuart and Anita Morgan, room- 
 mates, whom she knew slightly, despite their repeated 
 advances. They were trained nurses, lately arrived 
 from the far West, older than the rest, but Salaman- 
 ders by their craving for excitement and their fidelity 
 to the rule of never allowing business to interfere with 
 pleasure. Dore had always had that curiosity which 
 each Salamander feels for another. How did they 
 play their games? Had they methods which she had 
 not divined ? Above all, what was to be the end of the 
 comedy? Readily welcomed, she drifted into their 
 society for a week or so. They engaged themselves 
 only for the day, and yet, despite the exacting strain 
 they underwent (and, to her surprise, she soon discov-
 
 210 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 ered that they were passionately devoted to their pro- 
 fession), each night by half past seven they came trip- 
 ping down the steps to where Dore, with the escorts, 
 was waiting in an automobile to whirl them to the 
 theater, to a long drive into the country, dinner and 
 an impromptu dance, and then home by the midnight 
 stars, ready to rise with the dawn and begin the day's 
 toil. They seemed made of iron. 
 
 They had their stories to tell, their analyses of men 
 and life. Doctors, it seemed, were sometimes human, 
 especially old ones. Often they had in the party men 
 whose names were famous in the profession, abrupt 
 incisive tyrants, neither abrupt nor tyrannical with 
 them, submitting to their banter, prodigal of compli- 
 ments, just as difficult to be kept in place as other men. 
 Dore listened in astonishment to their conversations, 
 amazed at the impertinence of the girls, and the ready 
 laughing acceptance of those who, in the day, com- 
 manded them. 
 
 "Why?" said Clarice Stuart, when she had once 
 voiced this amazement. " Putting a different coat on 
 them isn't going to change them, is it? Lud 
 bless you, girl, I thought the way you did, 
 once. I got over it quickly! Do you want to know 
 my first experience here, when I got to New 
 York? An eye-opener, let me tell you! I was sub- 
 stitute on a surgical case, private house, patient 
 sleeping under opiates, when Doctor Outerwaite, 
 the same we were with the other night up at the Arena, 
 came in for examination. 'Course, in that case, the 
 family always go out of the room until the examina-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 211 
 
 tion is over. Outervvaite! Lord, we'd heard nothing 
 but Outerwaite all through the West! I was fright- 
 ened stiff! They say he's a devil in the operating- 
 room, swearing like a trooper if everything doesn't go 
 like clockwork! Imagine me! First case in little 
 New York! Well, I shooed the family out, closed 
 the doors and stood at the patient's side he quite 
 out of his head, delirium and opiates; me watching the 
 Doc, and ready to jump at a sneeze. And what do 
 you think he did? Go to the patient? Nixie! He 
 came straight up to little me, slipped his arm around, 
 and said : 
 
 "'Why, you beautiful creature! where did you 
 come from ? ' : 
 
 She laughed in a superior worldly way, adding : 
 
 " They're not all that way ; but there are some gay 
 boys! Lord! I could tell you some story! I say, 
 Dodo, if you ever get appendicitis, let me know. I'll 
 fix it for you so it won't cost you a cent ! " 
 
 So even distinguished surgeons, men of interna- 
 tional reputation, had their little excursions behind the 
 scenes, vulnerable as the rest before an impertinent, 
 defiant Salamander! Curious, she asked questions, 
 seeking to know how such wardrobes grew from mod- 
 est salaries. Clarice was nothing if not direct. 
 
 "Graft!" she said, with a shrug of her shoulders. 
 " Of course, the wages are good, but they don't set 
 up a wardrobe of Paris models, do they? Well, it's 
 a question of presents, see ? " She laughed, shrug- 
 ging her shoulders. " A patient you've pulled through 
 pneumonia, or a case of trepanning, has a right to
 
 212 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 periodic fits of gratitude, hasn't he? And, of course, 
 when you leave there's always a present money, if 
 you're supporting the family at home." She empha- 
 sized this with a wink. " When you get a club man, 
 a good sport who's been in a blue funk at dying, it 
 shapes up pretty well! Of course, w r hen you strike a 
 woman, it's a scarf or a kimono. But \ve've been 
 rather lucky ! " 
 
 Then, become suddenly serious, she continued 
 thoughtfully : 
 
 " I say, Dodo, it's real curious, the effect you get 
 over a man when he's pulling out of a smashing ill' 
 ness! You know, if I'd wanted to I could have mar- 
 ried " She stopped, lost in a reverie. " A nice 
 boy, too. Sometimes I think I was a fool ! " 
 
 " Will you marry? " said Dodo curiously. 
 
 " Anita says she will. Don't know about little me. 
 I'm engaged, you know." She held up two fingers 
 and laughed: "But, lord! there's no hurry. It's 
 such fun as it is ! " 
 
 As she grew more confidential (and secrecy was not 
 her failing), Do re herself was surprised at the daring 
 of the nurse's life. She spoke lightly of things that 
 Dore did not approve of now. She had met men in 
 unconventional ways, without introduction, accord- 
 ing to a fancy the expression is " picked up." 
 When Dore demurred, she said, with western frank- 
 ness: 
 
 " Say, how would I meet them, then ? Oh, I man- 
 age them all right after ! That's where their little 
 surprise comes in ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 213 
 
 And she began to tell of the time when she had 
 flirted with two well-known club men at the Horse 
 Show, men who were dying to speak to her, but were 
 afraid on account of the presence of curious others. 
 But, in passing near them, they had slipped their cards 
 into her pocket. Of course, she had not written them 
 she had met them by chance afterward at a restau- 
 rant ; but she had not been offended by their advance. 
 They were of her steady acquaintance now. 
 
 But Dore's incursion into this curious society 
 brought her small amusement. She grew tired 
 quickly of these too easily read admirers. Then after 
 what she had known, they were all second-chop. The 
 company of Estelle Monks interested her more. Since 
 the morning she had surprised her in the office of the 
 Free Press, her curiosity had been stirred to further 
 investigation. Estelle Monks herself forestalled her. 
 She came into her rooms suddenly one morning, and 
 plumping down, abruptly inquired: 
 
 " Do me a favor, Dodo ? " 
 
 "Any!" 
 
 " Don't mention to Mr. Harrigan Blood that I in- 
 habit these quarters ! " 
 
 Dore, puzzled, a little embarrassed too, moved away, 
 saying : 
 
 " What do you mean ? Why not ? " 
 
 ".No offense to you, bless you! " said Estelle Monks, 
 with a curious smile. " You see, I'm on the paper. 
 He well, he wouldn't quite relish the idea of trip- 
 ping over me when he turns up with a bunch of flow- 
 ers."
 
 214 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " You exaggerate," said Dore nervously. " Harri- 
 gan Blood's not really interested." 
 
 " H. B.'s a damned fascinating man," said Estelle 
 Monks directly, " but he doesn't like reporters about, 
 whether he's serious or not particularly his own re- 
 porters." 
 
 " He's not serious ! " said Dore. 
 
 Estelle Monks smiled. 
 
 " That is, he only thinks he is." 
 
 " I guess you understand him, don't you ? " said Es- 
 telle Monks, still smiling. 
 
 " Yes ! " She looked at her friend, interested. 
 " What are you doing on the paper ? You never told 
 any one." 
 
 " Raise your hand and cross your heart ! " said Es- 
 telle solemnly. " I'm Ferdie Amsterdam." 
 
 " You? " said Dore in amazement. For under that 
 pseudonym was conducted the famous society column 
 of the Free Press. 
 
 " Expert on the Four Hundred social diction- 
 ary." 
 
 "Honest?" 
 
 " Since two months ! " 
 
 " But how do you manage ? " 
 
 She told her story. She had come from San Fran- 
 cisco, where she had done some clever work on the pa- 
 pers. She had a few letters of introduction, and, she 
 knew a few men of the journalist emigration. She 
 had gone to the Free Press office with an article in 
 hand, Impressions, of a Western Girl.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 215 
 
 " What, it was you ? " said Dore, suddenly enlight- 
 ened. 
 
 " Don't wonder you didn't recognize the photo. 
 Belonged to some one on the coast. Wrote my article 
 in Chicago fake, of course, but highly seasoned. I 
 handed it over as if I owned a Middle West chain of 
 papers ; told them I'd go out and work up the names. 
 But the feeling was all right, so it was! The stuff 
 went big ; I was fixed ! " 
 
 Dore was on the point of divulging her own ex- 
 perience, and how she had been outstripped; but she 
 held her tongue with a new caution, asking: 
 
 " But the society game, Estelle how do you know 
 about that ? " 
 
 "I don't!" she answered frankly. "It started as 
 a joke; it made good! The real Ferdie Amsterdam 
 that's to say, the last of the line, an old maid called 
 Benticker got a pain somewhere and was carted off 
 to the hospital. I was put on the column and told to 
 fill it up somehow. I sent in a hurry call to a couple 
 of my friends, Ben Brown and Will Cutter you 
 know them, big magazine specialists and we sat 
 down with a couple of weeklies, and doped out a crack- 
 er-jack story. It amused them. They used to laugh 
 themselves sick over being Ferdie Amsterdam. Since 
 then we lunch at Lazare's every day and dope it out. 
 And say, the boss is so tickled, he's raised my rates! 
 What do you think of that? 'Course, now I'm getting 
 the jargon, going out and meeting people " 
 
 " Going out? " said Dore, opening her eyes.
 
 216 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Some ! Ferdie Amsterdam gets a bid to any big 
 affair that's pulled off. Say, the way these leaders of 
 society currycomb your back would paralyze you! 
 Trouble to get information? Why, they're dying to 
 crowd into print ! " 
 
 " And so that's the way you worked it," said D'ore 
 musingly. 
 
 " Sure. Drop in to lunch with me and see the board 
 in session ! " 
 
 Dore liked Estelle Monks. There was something 
 self-reliant and businesslike about her that inspired 
 confidence. She had a big point of view, one who 
 had unbounded charity and understanding. She in- 
 vited Dore to go with her as her guest to several af- 
 fairs, musicales, large balls and tableaux, but the in- 
 vitation was always declined. As she knew her, 
 though, Dore was surprised to find how naturally this 
 confident little worker, with the slow and alluring 
 smile, gathered about her men from the most fashion- 
 able sets, men whom she converted into friends, firm 
 in their respect. She admired this gift, knowing how 
 much more difficult it is to establish a friendship 
 than to begin a flirtation. 
 
 She went once or twice to luncheon with her, 
 amused at the facile clever way Estelle Monks en- 
 listed the services of two such celebrities as Ben Brown 
 and Will Cutter, and that in friendship solely. It 
 must be a gift a gift that was not in Dore's power. 
 Even on the few occasions she met them, Will Cutter 
 looked at her with awakened fixity, very different 
 from the way he beamed jovially on Estelle Monks.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 217 
 
 A smile, and Dore felt he would enlist under her ban- 
 ner. But she steadfastly resisted this disloyalty; for 
 among Salamanders etiquette is strict, and possession 
 is all points of the law. 
 
 For three weeks, then, she sought to immerse her- 
 self in this old life sharing the surface confidences 
 of the Salamanders, playing her part in little financial 
 intrigues, running into pawn-shops with Winona, or 
 making profitable arrangements at Pouffe's for the 
 crediting on flowers withheld for Ida Summers, who 
 was new; working up the birthday game for Clarice 
 and Anita, when consulted by admirers as to what 
 would please these difficult ladies; raising her own 
 capital by the reselling of the bi-weekly basket of cham- 
 pagne from Peavey, the flowers that Stacey, Gilday 
 and Sassoon assiduously offered, receiving her share 
 of convertible presents from chance admirers, hooked 
 for a week or two at the bottom without zest, sick 
 at heart, tired of it all. Then, all at once, one morn- 
 ing after she had gone to the door of the court-house 
 where Massingale was holding court, in a sudden re- 
 vulsion she fled to Blainey's office, wildly resolved on 
 escape. 
 
 Two days later she found herself in Buffalo, in- 
 scribed on the list of a stock company, resolved to 
 stay for months until her mental balance had been re- 
 gained and the deep wound in her heart had become 
 but a faint scar. She stayed just two weeks. The 
 quiet, the relaxed air, life in so many ruts of the little 
 big town, awoke in her a fear of the past, of being 
 sucked back into the oblivion of early days, as if what
 
 218 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 she feared night and day had already begun retro- 
 gression. Was that the true reason of her return, or 
 was there some impelling magnet too compelling to be 
 resisted, or even to be acknowledged ? 
 
 She came directly into Blainey's office, profiting by 
 her entree which carried her triumphantly past the 
 crowded anteroom, where old and young, the hopeful 
 and the resigned, the restlessly impatient and the sod- 
 denly passive, waited wearily, watching her with hos- 
 tile eyes. 
 
 " Well, Blainey, I'm back ! " she said abruptly, and 
 nodding at the dapper secretary, she added : " Send 
 him out ! I want to talk to you." 
 
 " Well, kid ? " he said, studying her shrewdly when 
 they were alone. 
 
 " Well, I'm going to be square with you! " she said, 
 crossing her arms defiantly. " I'm miserable, 
 Blainey!" 
 
 " Trouble here ? " he said, laying a fat forefinger 
 on his heart. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Em bad ! " he said solemnly. He flung away 
 the half smoked cigar, chose another and nervously 
 turned it in his fingers. " So I'd sized it up well, 
 we all get it. Why? Lord love me, of all I've 
 watched and stirred up, that's what gets me why a 
 damned clever girl like you, or a cold-headed old son- 
 of-a-gun like me should ever fall I'm sorry, kid ! 
 Are you going to make a fool of yourself ? " 
 
 " I don't know, Blainey," she said, shrugging her
 
 THE SALAMANDER 219 
 
 shoulders. She had a feeling, all at once, of confi- 
 dence in his rough common sense. 
 
 " That's queer. I thought you were too keen ! " 
 He was thinking of Sassoon, wondering if she would 
 throw away such an opportunity for a short romance. 
 " Some youngster, eh ? without a cent talking 
 
 big!" 
 
 He lighted the cigar and puffed it reflectively. 
 
 " Kid, we Americans are a bunch of damned fools. 
 Sentiment's our middle name! Why should I hand 
 you a line of talk? Haven't I fallen for it a dozen 
 times ? Yes, and ready to begin all over again ! 
 We've got to love some one, or we get to wabbling ! " 
 
 He looked at her, and again he thought of Sassoon, 
 and what the situation might yield. He wanted to be 
 honest with her, to give her good advice according to 
 his lights. 
 
 " So that's why you shot off to Buffalo, eh ? " he 
 said, with a long whistle. " Bad theory ! Stay by it ; 
 see the fellow ten times a day that sometimes cures. 
 Say, I'm going to hand you the truth like a Dutch un- 
 cle! You've got things going your way; you've got 
 the whole game before you, cinched." He hesitated. 
 " Sassoon, ready to back you to the limit, opportunity, 
 money backing; you know the place." . . . He waved 
 contemptuously at the warring world of the Rialto 
 below " And you know the game. Sassoon's good 
 for thousands in your hands. And then, there's the 
 advertisement! Don't lose your head over a couple 
 of square shoulders ! "
 
 220 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 She did not set him right. For her purposes she 
 preferred that he should entirely misconceive her. 
 She allowed him to go on, volunteering his worldly, 
 well meant advice. 
 
 " All you say is true," she said finally, with an in- 
 definable smile. " Blainey, I've always said I would 
 make up my mind at twenty-three. Be patient. It 
 may be sooner ! " 
 
 " Wish I could take twenty-five years off my back," 
 he said slowly, without rising. " Take your time 
 take your time; and if you get weepy, come in and 
 use my shoulder. Understand ? " 
 
 He rang the bell, waved his hand cheerily and 
 watched her until she disappeared. She went, 
 strongly impressed by his kindness, half inclined im- 
 pulsively to return and begin in earnest. 
 
 She had gone directly to him from the station. 
 Now she returned to Miss Pirn's. When she was back 
 once more in her own room, the sensation of home- 
 coming was so acute that she could have sat down in 
 the middle of the floor and cried for joy. But in 
 another moment Ida Summers rushed in. 
 
 " Dodo ! The Lord be praised ! You saved my 
 lifeJ Dinner, theater and a gorgeous cabaret affair 
 afterwards. Vaughan Chandler's coming for me at 
 seven I promised to get another girl. Every one 
 you know is going. Every one's been asking for you. 
 Swear you'll come?" 
 
 " Come? You bet I will! " she cried with a great 
 burst of relief, flinging herself frantically in Ida's 
 arms.
 
 221 
 
 At eleven o'clock, after dinner and the theater they 
 started in a party of six, hilariously, for Healey's, 
 where a dozen crowds were to congregate for an im- 
 promptu cabaret dance. She felt elated, gloriously 
 happy. It seemed to her as if she had regained the 
 mastery of herself again, that the old zest had returned 
 with the incipient flirtation which she had already be- 
 gun with two irreproachable youths who sought dis- 
 creetly to touch her hand in the confusion of the bump- 
 ing ride, or to gaze deep, with ardent soulful messages, 
 into her mocking eyes of cloudy blue. After all, the 
 voluntary exile had served its purpose. It had showed 
 her the stupidity of moping. Life was too short to 
 be taken seriously. Admiration of ten men was bet- 
 ter, more exhilarating, more exciting, than ridiculous 
 fancied passions au serieux. She was so happy, so 
 brilliantly gay, liberated in spirit, avid for excitement 
 and admiration, that even Vaughan Chandler, Ida's 
 cavalier by rights, watched her with amazed disloyal 
 eyes. 
 
 Others were before them in the great Jungle Room 
 which had been reserved. From below they heard the 
 barbaric swinging music of stringed instruments, and 
 divined the laughing, swaying, gliding confusion of 
 dancers. Dore, with brilliant eyes and impatient 
 tripping feet, hurried them on, eager to lose herself 
 in the swirling throbbing measures, and the first two 
 persons she saw on entering, were Lindaberry and 
 Judge Massingale!
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 MASSINGALE did not perceive her entrance. A 
 moment later she was in the arms of one of her 
 escorts, lost in the confusion of the dance. Whirl- 
 ing figures obscured her view. She caught flashes of 
 his erect square-shouldered figure, glimpses of the high 
 forehead and stern gaze, and the next moment she 
 was flinging back a laughing salutation to a suddenly 
 appearing acquaintance flying past her. Whatever 
 happened, she would never look in his direction; he 
 should never know that he existed for her ! And still, 
 in the kaleidoscopic hazards of the frantic measure, 
 his face was the only fixed point which a dozen futile 
 shapes strove in vain to obscure. He had his hand 
 on Lindaberry's shoulder, bending over him in ani- 
 mated exhortation; other men, three or four, laugh- 
 ingly provocative or dissuading, were in the group. 
 Then, all at once, an abrupt end, laughter, applause, 
 a quick clearing of the floor, and Massingale, looking 
 across the room, saw her. 
 
 She had no experience of the discipline of society; 
 she understood only crude impulses of nature; she 
 never believed that he would dare approach her. He 
 came directly to her, offered his hand with perfect 
 courtesy, gave a formal greeting, bowed and left her 
 immediately. She was so taken by surprise by the 
 ease with which he had surmounted a difficult mo- 
 
 222
 
 THE SALAMANDER 223 
 
 ment that she suffered him to take her hand and to 
 depart without the slightest resistance. But im- 
 mediately afterward her anger flamed up. What! 
 not a word of excuse, not a regret, nothing but a trivial 
 evasion! And forgetting all her own resolves, she 
 flung herself recklessly into the excitement of the 
 evening, recklessly resolved to make herself a thou- 
 sand times more desirable, to outdo even the most dar- 
 ing of the dancers, to draw on herself every regard, 
 that he might see to what he had driven her. He 
 continued to watch her, transformed into a spectator, 
 arms folded, seeing no one else; and with a keen cut- 
 ting joy she saw the furrow of pain and doubt which 
 gathered across his brow, as she abandoned herself, 
 head thrown back, laughing up at her partner, as she 
 had seen Georgie Gwynne once in the embrace of 
 Lindaberry. The men, already overexcited, crowded 
 about her, contending for each dance. 
 
 Now she no longer avoided Massingale's troubled 
 gaze. Each time she passed near him, she sent him 
 a scornful veiled glance, a smile of derision and reck- 
 lessness, which said : " There you see ! This is 
 what you have done to me ; this is where I am going ! " 
 A fury impelled her on; she wished to drive him, at 
 all costs, from the room. But still he remained rooted 
 by the piano, never averting his eyes. She saw that 
 he suffered, and by every coqueting provoking glance, 
 by every seductive movement of her body, by the very 
 vertigo of her languorous, half closed eyes and parted 
 eager lips, she sought to bury deeper the sting. 
 
 Lindaberry sought her, among others, and she
 
 224 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 danced with him once, twice, a third time, granting 
 him that personal distinction which would double the 
 pain she was inflicting. This evening Lindaberry was 
 different. She felt in him an agitation equal to her 
 own. He danced extraordinarily well, with an impul- 
 sive sense of the alternately controlled or passionately 
 rebellious movements of the dance. And the im- 
 pulses within him which subdued her movements to 
 his, fiercely checking them or suddenly enveloping her 
 in a mad, surging, frantic rush which left her breath- 
 less, was something not of the room, or the mechanics 
 of the step, but an inner fierce revolt that sought its 
 liberating expression in this physical madness. Even 
 in her obsession of resentment, she felt a curiosity to 
 know why this was so. Other men enlightened her, 
 whispering caution : 
 
 " For God's sake, Miss Baxter, don't let him drink 
 any more ! " 
 
 " He's been on a spree for a week ! " 
 
 " They say he lost forty thousand last night at Can- 
 field's." 
 
 She could not believe it. His face was so hilar- 
 iously young, lighted up with such boyish laughter. 
 To-night she had no fear of him; if he was reckless, 
 so was she ! 
 
 " This is nothing ! " he had said to her once, when 
 he had driven her about the room at such a pace that 
 she had halted, laughing, protesting that it was glo- 
 rious, waiting for breath. " How would you like to 
 go spinning along at eighty miles an hour? That's 
 sensation ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 225 
 
 She had not understood his meaning, but, the idea 
 once in her head, she returned to it. It seemed to 
 her all at once that in her hand lay the final stroke 
 that would wound Massingale as nothing else would 
 wound, which would show him how little she cared 
 for anything now reputation, danger, or what might 
 come after. 
 
 " You like the feeling of eighty miles an hour ? " 
 she said to Lindaberry, the next time he came. 
 
 "Adore it!" 
 
 " Is your machine here ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Show me what it is like eighty miles an hour! " 
 
 " Do you mean it ? " 
 
 "Of course!" 
 
 " You've got the nerve ? " 
 
 She laughed; it was not a question of courage. 
 
 " Come on, then ! " . 
 
 She nodded, and glanced about the room. Ida 
 Summers was at the piano, clamoring for a certain 
 dance, not five feet from Massingale. She went 
 quickly, saying, in a voice that would carry where she 
 intended : 
 
 " Ida, I'm off for a lark. Don't be worried if I 
 disappear! " 
 
 " Heavens, Dodo, what are you going to do now? " 
 said Ida, looking up startled. 
 
 " Great fun ! Mr. Lindaberry's going to show me 
 what it feels like to go a mile a minute in the 
 dark." 
 
 To her surprise, she was instantly surrounded by
 
 226 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 those who had heard her remark a group in violent 
 protest. 
 
 "You're mad!" 
 
 " Lindaberry'll wreck the car ! " 
 
 " Don't you know his condition ? " 
 
 " Miss Baxter, it's suicide ! " 
 
 Massingale alone did not offer a word. 
 
 She put them laughingly away with double-edged 
 words : 
 
 "Danger? So much the better! What do I 
 care?" 
 
 But she had considerable difficulty in freeing her- 
 self. When finally she escaped, laughing, and had 
 made for the entrance, Lindaberry, too, was facing a 
 storm of protest from those who had learned of his 
 proposed escapade. 
 
 " I say, Miss Baxter, I'm looked on as a slaughter- 
 house champion here," he said, laughing. " No one 
 particularly cares about my neck, but a good many do 
 about yours ! What do you say? Shall we give them 
 the slip?" 
 
 "I'm ready!" 
 
 " Can't we put up a little bet on this ? " he continued 
 triumphantly. " It's now ten minutes before one. 
 Yonkers and back, despite cops, punctures and acci- 
 dents, in forty minutes I Who'll take me for a hun- 
 dred, even at that ? " 
 
 A chorus of murmurs alone answered him : 
 
 "Don't be a fool, Garry!" 
 
 "Not I!" 
 
 " You ought to be manacled ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 227 
 
 "I'll make it two to one five to one!" He 
 stopped expectantly, shrugged his shoulders, and turned 
 to Dore. " Miss Baxter, I give you my word of honor 
 there's not the slightest risk. Still, it's up to you. 
 Well?" 
 
 " I'm crazy about it ! " she said, with a reckless 
 laugh, slipping her hand through his proffered arm. 
 
 Below, she drew back suddenly. Judge Massingale 
 was on the sidewalk, standing by the car. He turned 
 at once to Lindaberry, looking steadily past her. 
 
 " Garry, this is sheer madness ! You have no right 
 to do what you're doing ! Miss Baxter does not know 
 what she is getting into ! " 
 
 Lindaberry's only answer was a boyish laugh, and 
 a hand to Dore, who sprang to her seat. 
 
 " Risk your own life. If you'll go alone, I'll take 
 up your bet ! " 
 
 "Listen to him, Miss Baxter!" said Lindaberry, 
 with an airy wave of his hand. " Why, upon my 
 honor, I'm the safest driver in New York! " 
 
 Massingale gave a groan of despair. 
 
 " Besides, if you're arrested and brought into court, 
 Garry, Miss Baxter's name will be dragged " 
 
 " I won't be nabbed. And, if I am, Judge, I'll tele- 
 phone for you ! Besides, there isn't a cop in the place 
 that doesn't love me like a brother. Ask Mulligan, 
 here!" 
 
 The patrolman on the beat, who had lazily sauntered 
 up at his colloquy, grinned and shook his head. 
 
 " Why, every time I get in a scrap with one of 
 them," continued Lindaberry joyously, " I send the
 
 228 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 kids to college! They'd break my head open the first 
 chance they got, but beyond that they wouldn't harm 
 a hair. Eh, Mulligan ? " 
 
 "Sure! That's right!" 
 
 Lindaberry, ready to take the wheel, bent over. 
 
 "I say, Mulligan, is De Lima on deck to-night?" 
 
 Mulligan gazed anxiously in the direction of Judge 
 Massingale, who was standing helplessly by. 
 
 " Oh, the judge is a good sport ! " said Lindaberry. 
 "Well, where's De Lima?" 
 
 " Above Ninety-sixth, I believe, sorr ! " 
 
 " Good ! I'll keep an eye out. De Lima's ex- 
 pensive! Well, Judge, too bad you can't join us. 
 Little bet? Now, don't worry! I'll promise nothing 
 faster than a mile a minute until we strike the coun- 
 try!" 
 
 They were drawn up in the electric flare of the side 
 entrance. Quite a group of staring white-aproned 
 waiters, impudent newsboys, appearing like bats out 
 of the hidden night, chauffeurs and curious creatures 
 of the underworld hung around open-mouthed, very 
 black and very white in the artificial region of light 
 and shadow. Massingale turned suddenly to her, 
 forced to his last appeal. 
 
 " Miss Baxter," he said, looking up directly, " I 
 wouldn't insist if I didn't know the chances you are 
 running with this madman ! Believe me, it is a reck- 
 less thing to do ! Miss Baxter, please don't go ! " 
 
 " Please? " she repeated, looking into his eyes with 
 a glance as cold as his own was excited. 
 
 " Yes ! I ask you I beg you not to go ! You
 
 THE SALAMANDER '229 
 
 don't know you don't understand. Mr. Linda- 
 berry is not a safe person now, under present con- 
 ditions ! " 
 
 She leaned a little toward him, modulating her voice 
 for his ear alone. 
 
 " I'm sure, Judge Massingale," she said coldly 
 " that I will be much safer with Mr. Lindabeny, 
 wherever he wishes to take me, than with some other 
 man, even in my own house, alone ! " 
 
 He understood: she saw it by the hurt look in his 
 eyes. He withdrew without further proffer. 
 
 The next instant the car shot out, with the trailing 
 scream of a rocket, shaved a wheel by an inch, swung 
 the corner with hardly a break, the rear wheels slid- 
 ing over the asphalt, and went streaming up the 
 avenue, the naked trees of the park running at their 
 side. 
 
 She sank back into the shaggy coat, adjusting the 
 glasses which the wind cut sharply into her face, ap- 
 palled at the speed, yet strangely, contemptuously un- 
 afraid. 
 
 " Fast enough ? " he cried, and the words seemed to 
 whistle by her. 
 
 " Love it ! " she shouted, bending toward him. 
 
 She watched him, shrunk against the seat, her cu- 
 riosity awakening at his mood, so married to her own. 
 Massingale, the dancers, the stirring pain-giving 
 world of pleasure, were miles away. She remembered 
 all at once that she was with him a stranger, wild 
 as herself, heedlessly, recklessly engaged in a mad 
 thing. All at once she laughed aloud, a curious sound
 
 230 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 that made him jerk his head hastily back. If he knew 
 how little she cared if the wheel swerved that neces- 
 sary fraction of an inch ! 
 
 " Crazy ! We're crazy, both of us ! " she thought to 
 herself joyfully. At this moment of wild cynicism 
 she felt that she had flung over everything, done for- 
 ever with scruples; that, now that she had compro- 
 mised herself so publicly, nothing more mattered. 
 She would be cruel, selfish, mercenary, but she would 
 make this city of Mammon that went roaring past her 
 serve her by its own false gods of money and suc- 
 cess. In the gathering roar of the hollow air, high 
 roof and low roof, sudden sparkling streets, file on file 
 of blinking lights, fatally brilliant as the lure of shop 
 windows, black instantaneous masses on the avenue, 
 streamed behind her in a giddy torrent. Yes, it was 
 her last scruples she thus flung to the winds, and fool- 
 ishly confident of divining inscrutable fates, she re- 
 peated fiercely, defiantly, drunk with the speed mad- 
 ness: 
 
 " What do I care! This is the end! "
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 "T TOLD tight!" 
 
 She caught his shoulder at a sudden grind- 
 ing stop, a breakneck turn into a side street, and the 
 released forward leap. 
 
 " Look out ! Don't touch my arm ! " he cried warn- 
 ingly. 
 
 The next moment they had leaped an intersecting 
 avenue, skirting the impending rush of a trolley car 
 by inches. He laughed uproariously. 
 
 "Afraid?" 
 
 "No!" 
 
 Another turn, and they were on Riverside, the broad 
 Hudson with its firefly lights below, the Palisades ris- 
 ing darkly, like gathering thunder-clouds. There was 
 no moon, but above their heads were the swarming 
 stars, brilliant as a myriad swo'rd-points. Once a 
 policeman rushed with a peremptory club in their 
 path, springing aside with an oath as Lindaberry set 
 the machine at him an oath that was lost like a 
 whirling leaf. She no longer sought to distinguish the 
 giddy passage at her sides, straining her eyes on the 
 white consuming path of the lanterns, feeling all at 
 once the hungry soul of the monster waking in the 
 machine, strident, throbbing, crying out at the un- 
 shaken hand of man which dominated it. Then the 
 
 231
 
 232 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 Viaduct slipped underneath them, and below, in a 
 swirling dip, the sunken city, hungry as a torrent, 
 awaiting a single mishap. 
 
 She had a sudden remembrance of her dream of 
 Nebbins pulling her over a brink, and the thread of a 
 river grave miles below. Only now she remembered 
 coldly, as if the speed at which they were flying gave 
 her no time to associate two ideas. Suddenly, by an 
 instinct not of fear but of disdainful certainty, her 
 eyes closed before the impossibility of surviving a loom- 
 ing obstacle. When she opened them again they were 
 among trees and fields, while the goaded machine 
 hurled itself forward in tugging leaps. Now, as they 
 seemed to fling themselves irrevocably on the destruc- 
 tion of wall or upstarting tree, she no longer winced 
 or closed her eyes, but breathlessly waited the sudden 
 liberating touch of the hand, which snatched them 
 miraculously aside in the last fraction of time. She 
 felt something that she had never felt before an ap- 
 petite and an intoxication in thus defrauding destruc- 
 tion; even her flesh responded with a tingling electric 
 glow. All at once she perceived that he was trying 
 her purposely steering from right to left, seemingly 
 bent on a plunging end, trying to draw a cry of fear. 
 She laughed again disdainfully, and all at once the 
 runaway came back into control, gliding into a smooth 
 easy flight, slower and slower, until it came to a stop. 
 
 " By George ! you have nerve ! " he said, turning 
 toward her. 
 
 " Go on ! Go on ! " she said feverishly. 
 
 He extended to her his hand, which was trembling.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 233 
 
 " God ! that's excitement that's worth while ! " he 
 said. " A fight every minute. Ugly old brute ! 
 Wouldn't it like to throw me just once? " He put on 
 the brakes, drawing his sleeve across his forehead, 
 which was wet with perspiration, taking a long breath. 
 " Each century has its vice. By George, this is ours 
 speed! And it's got everything in it gamble, 
 danger, intoxication, all ! Like it ? " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 He remained silent a moment, as if struggling to 
 clear his heavy head of befogging weights. Then he 
 said slowly, a little thickly, curiosity growing : 
 
 "Why the devil did you do it?" 
 
 "Do what?" 
 
 " Risk your neck with a fool like me ? " 
 
 " Oh, don't let's talk ! " she said nervously. " Go 
 on! Fast!" 
 
 "All right!" 
 
 They were off again, a wild liberating rush, and 
 then a calmer motion, a gliding ease. She felt in him 
 a different mood, a mood that sought an opportunity 
 to put questions and weigh answers, and as she felt 
 a desire to escape personalities, she said complain- 
 ingly : 
 
 " But it's so slow so tame ! Let's go on run- 
 ning away ! " 
 
 " This is different," he said, with a wave of his 
 hand overhead at the myriad-eyed night. " You can't 
 run away from this! The rest houses, people, rot- 
 ten brutality, useless things, yes; that's what I like to 
 go plunging from to get to this. I like the feel-
 
 234 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 ing solitude. George ! if you could only go steer- 
 ing your way out of all the old into something new ! " 
 He repeated the phrase moodily, as if to himself : "If 
 one only could if it were only possible ! " Then he 
 broke off abruptly, laughing to himself : " You're too 
 young. You can't understand. Everything is new to 
 you. By George, marry me and start for Australia, 
 or Timbuctoo, to-morrow ! What do you say ? " 
 
 "Look out! I might accept!" she said, laughing, 
 and yet understanding. 
 
 " Every one thinks I'm a wild ass," he said grimly. 
 " Wish I could do something really wild make over 
 the world! Look here; are you going to answer my 
 question? " 
 
 "What question?" 
 
 " Why in the name of the impossible are we here 
 to-night?" 
 
 " I wonder? " she said, half to herself. 
 
 The reply seemed to satisfy him; he continued a 
 moment, absorbed in their smooth progress. Insen- 
 sibly she felt her mood yielding to his, no longer im- 
 patient, vaguely content, lulled into reverie, giving 
 herself over to a new strange companionable inclina- 
 tion toward the man who had revealed himself, half 
 boy, half savage, in his first unconscious longings. 
 
 To escape from the old? No, she did not yet un- 
 derstand that; but she did comprehend the all-per- 
 vading serenity of the night, warm still with the touch 
 of Indian summer. The grating strident sounds of 
 the day were gone; the whisper on the wind was soft 
 as a lullaby sharp angles and brutally straight lines
 
 THE SALAMANDER 235 
 
 lost in the feathery suffusion that lay on the fields. 
 Ahead, the brave steadfast rays of their lamps pierced 
 through sudden pools of darkness, that closed gently 
 above them, and gave way again to clear visions of 
 stars. Once or twice she saw across the enchanted 
 blackness a distant trolley, unheard, rolling its ball of 
 fire like the track of a shooting star. Again, the far- 
 off leathery bark of a watch-dog complaining. But 
 of man no sound. Only the mysterious shadows held 
 a spirit of life; only a giant tree, silhouetted against 
 the faint sky, seemed to move as they moved, racing 
 with them past the vanishing road bushes. A rabbit, 
 started from its security, horribly hypnotized by this 
 chugging, fiery-eyed monster, scurried foolishly be- 
 fore them. Once a swerving bat zigzagged before her 
 eyes like the cut of a black whirling blade. Even 
 these were intruders, out of place in the old world, 
 older than the pyramids, older than the first stirring 
 of life this waiting dominion of time, which re- 
 claimed each night the futile centuries of men, secure 
 of the hour when all must return in loyalty to its first 
 silence. She looked at the stars, and the world be- 
 neath dwindled into nothingness, to the span of a hand 
 before these twinking immensities. Which was real? 
 This night, where only the infinite and the inevitable 
 reigned, or the day, with its clamoring intrusion of 
 confusing and needless voices ? 
 
 She put her hand on his arm. 
 
 " It's so strange. It's so long since I remembered. 
 I had forgot!" 
 
 She had forgot, indeed, that world which lay be-
 
 236 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 yond men's world; but she remembered it now the 
 strange night, which formerly in the quiet of a child's 
 room came gently, like a friendly stream, across her 
 white counterpane, awaking troubled questionings, im- 
 possible, terrifying confrontations of the beyond and 
 the hereafter. She had feared these strange whys 
 and wherefores then ; and now they laid upon her only 
 a great peace perhaps because she sought no answer. 
 
 She wanted to talk to him as one could talk in the 
 hidden night, away from foolish conventions. What 
 did it matter what they said or did here in this en- 
 gulfing quiet? Why should human beings be con- 
 stantly at war with one another, stopped by vanities? 
 She had forgot her anguish, in an impulse toward the 
 weakness in the man. 
 
 He stopped the car and turned toward her. 
 
 " What's wrong? What's the trouble? " 
 
 " Mine's nothing ! " she said. " Let me talk about 
 you/' 
 
 But they did not at once begin a little at a loss. 
 
 " How old are you ? " she said at last. 
 
 " Twenty-eight ages ! " 
 
 " Is it true, what they tell me? " 
 
 " That I'm riding hellbent to the devil? Correct! " 
 
 He did not say it with braggadocio, and yet it seemed 
 incongruous, after the glimpse she had had of the man. 
 
 "Why?" she said, laying her two hands impul- 
 sively on his arm and with every instinct of her 
 feminine nature sending him a message of sympathy. 
 
 " It's such a long story ! " he said slowly. Then,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 237 
 
 with a last return of the Saxon's fear of sentimentality : 
 " If I were sober I wouldn't tell you! " 
 
 "You're not" 
 
 " Drunk ? Yes ! For ten days," he said " in my 
 way! There's nothing to fear; never gets the best of 
 me! When it does crack! It'll be over in a sec- 
 ond!" 
 
 " But why? " she asked helplessly. 
 
 " Why not ? " he said fiercely. " All I care about 
 is a good fight, and, by George, it is a fight, a real sen- 
 sation. You can't understand, but it's so! To have 
 your temples beating like trip-hammers, to fight the 
 mists out of your eyes a great brute like this whip- 
 ping back and forth, shaking you off. One slip, a hun- 
 dredth of a second, and then to beat it all, to master 
 it. God ! it's gorgeous ! " 
 
 Suddenly, with an attempt at evasion, he drew back. 
 
 " You know, I had a mind once. I reason things 
 out now I see straight ! Do you know how I figure 
 it out? This way! What earthly use am I in the 
 world? What earthly use is a cuss who is given 
 forty thousand a year, without earning it, and told 
 to amuse himself? None! By George! Sometimes 
 I believe dissipation is nature's way of getting rid of 
 us! And she's right, too; the sooner it's over, the 
 more chance for some one real to come along ! " 
 
 " Are you serious ? " 
 
 He drew his hand across his forehead, pinching his 
 temples. 
 
 " Curiously enough, I am ! I'm quite hopeless, and
 
 238 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 I don't care in the least ! So don't let's waste time ! " 
 
 He started to crank the machine; but she stopped 
 him. 
 
 " There was a woman ? " she said. 
 
 " Yes, but not in the first place." He turned to her, 
 puzzled. " Why do you want to make me talk? " 
 
 "I don't know; I do!" 
 
 "What's your name?" 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 " Dodo." 
 
 " I like that ! " he said reflectively. " So you are 
 really interested? And you don't know our story? 
 Lord ! That's funny ! I thought every one knew the 
 story of the Lindaberry boys! We certainly raised 
 enough Cain! Do you know, I really was a damned 
 nice sort of kid men adored me ! " He drew in 
 his breath reflectively, conjuring up, with a tolerant 
 smile, a picture out of forgotten days. " Yes, a real 
 decent cuss who'd have done something if he'd had 
 half a chance! There's only one thing I love in this 
 world a fight ; and they took it all away from me ! 
 
 " Do you know, the finest days, the ripping ones, 
 were those back in the old school, when I used to be 
 carried off the field on the shoulders of a mob. That 
 was something real! I loved it! We used to sing 
 about shedding our blood, and all that funny rot, for 
 the glory of the red and black and I believed it, 
 too. Lord bless that queer cuss. Good days ! I used 
 to play the game like a raging little devil, ready to 
 fling my life away! The Lindaberry boys they 
 haven't forgot us yet! It was so at college, only
 
 THE SALAMANDER 239 
 
 not quite the same. But at school, four hundred fel- 
 lows, and to be king! Ambition? I was chock-full of 
 it then. But they took it away from me ! That's what 
 knocked me out! And who did it? The one who 
 loved us best the governor! 
 
 " Out of college, forty thousand a year, and told to 
 have a good time! Put that down for my epitaph! 
 The dad, poor old fellow, didn't know any better! 
 He'd worked like a pirate ; said he'd never been young ; 
 wanted us to live! Forty thousand a year each, and 
 let her go! I remember the day we started, with a 
 whoop! Wonder is, we lasted a year! Tom, the 
 young one, didn't ! " 
 
 "Dead?" 
 
 " To the world, yes ; asylum. Killed the governor. 
 He tried to stop us, but it was too late! Now the 
 race is between Jock and me. My lord, if they'd only 
 packed us off started us in a construction gang, 
 anywhere, temperature a hundred in the shade 
 might have owned a state to-day ! Remember what I 
 said about the feeling you get out here alone the 
 awaking into something new? If Jock would go, I'd 
 cut to-morrow ship before the mast, and God take 
 the rudder! He won't. But, by jove, to get into a 
 new life, a new chance ! You'll understand or, no,. 
 I hope you never will ! " 
 
 She could see but a faint blurred mass at her side. 
 Under the goblin shadows of autumn trees, a brook 
 sunk in the field told its hidden story to piping crickets 
 and rovers of the night. She felt in her a great need 
 of compassion, a yearning emptiness in her arms, a
 
 240 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 desire to lay her comforting touch across his eyes, as 
 once she had put into slumberland the tear-stained 
 cheeks of Snyder's little child. No other sentiment 
 came to mingle with this pure stream of maternal 
 longing; but all about her and all within her so im- 
 pelled her to follow the instinct of the ages that she 
 drew back with a sigh. 
 
 " Here ! Don't do that for me ! " he said, straight- 
 ening up ashamed. 
 
 She could not tell him what in her had called forth 
 that sigh, so she said hurriedly: 
 
 " No, no. Then, of course, there was a woman ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course ! " he assented. He opened his 
 match-case, lighted a cigarette and then flung it away 
 nervously. " Lord, but I was a child in those days. 
 I believed implicitly! Women? A religion to me. 
 I was ready to fall down and worship! We were en- 
 gaged secret until I had got hold of myself. Easy? 
 It was child's play! I could have won out in three 
 months. Then, quite by accident, I found she was 
 playing the same game with my best friend how 
 many others, God knows ! Great God ! talk about 
 smashing idols for poor old heathen Chinese ! Whew 
 there was nothing left ! I didn't even see her. 
 Went off, crazy as a loon. A wild letter, and good-by 
 for a year. Bang around the world to get the poison 
 out of my system. Little good it did, too!" He 
 stopped, considered a moment, and added : " Now 
 that I look back, I think she did care for me as 
 much as she could in her polygamous little soul else 
 she wouldn't have done what she did! When I got
 
 THE SALAMANDER 241 
 
 back fool that I was I found her Mrs. Jock 
 Lindaberry, and the devil in the saddle ! " 
 
 " What ! your own brother ? " she said incredulously. 
 "How did she dare?" 
 
 " You don't know the lady ! " he said, with a laugh. 
 " There's nothing in this world she's afraid of. And 
 
 God, how she can hate ! Fine revenge, eh ? " 
 "But you didn't tell" 
 
 "Jock? No! What's the use? We never talk 
 much and he knows! Then, there's a child, a boy 
 
 a Lindaberry ; and that holds him. She was clever 
 enough for that ! " 
 
 "You see her?" 
 
 " Never have entered the house ! " 
 
 " You were very much in love ? " she asked. 
 
 "At twenty-three? Mad, crazy in love! Ready 
 to take any man by the throat who dared insinuate a 
 word!" 
 
 "Aren't you over it yet?" 
 
 "I? Yes and no. It was Kismet! If I'd been 
 lucky enough, even then, to have found a woman who 
 cared, whom I could worship who knows? Well! 
 the other thing happened ! Kismet ! " 
 
 " But there are lots of women " 
 
 "Yes, of course! But I I've never trusted 
 since." 
 
 " You are really a great coward, Mr. Lindaberry ! " 
 
 She said it impulsively yet, once said, resolved 
 to stand by her guns, feeling now threefold the 
 anger and irritation he had awakened in her at their 
 first meeting.
 
 242 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 He shifted in his seat, amazed. 
 
 " You give up at your first defeat let a woman 
 who isn't worth a candle wreck your life! " 
 
 "By Jove!" 
 
 "Pride? You talk of pride and courage! You 
 haven't a drop of either," she continued hotly. " So 
 you'll give her just what she wants, the satisfaction 
 of seeing how you cared! Yes, what a delicious re- 
 venge you give her ! I'm a woman I know ! She 
 hates you, and she sits back smiling, waiting for the 
 end, saying to herself: 'I did it!' No; I have no 
 patience with such weakness ! You are nothing but a 
 great coward ! " 
 
 She stopped, surprised at a sob that arose, unbidden, 
 in her throat. He gazed ahead, without answering, a 
 long while, his fingers playing on the wheel. 
 
 " That's rather rough ! " he said at last. 
 
 " You deserve every bit of it ! " 
 
 " To call me a coward ? " he said, with an uneasy 
 laugh. 
 
 " A great coward ! Oh, courage ! Easy enough, 
 when you know you've physical strength, to go smash- 
 ing into a weaker man or a dozen ! That's so ob- 
 vious, so easy. But when something difficult comes 
 up-" 
 
 He swore impatiently to himself. 
 
 " Yes, something difficult. When the odds are all 
 against you, you give up do just what a cold-blooded 
 little vixen wants of you. Why? Because you have 
 no pride ! " she cried heatedly. " Don't talk to me of
 
 THE SALAMANDER 243 
 
 courage! I have a thousand times more than you, to 
 come to-night ! " 
 
 " By jove ! You're right ! " he said, folding his 
 arms. " Hold up, now ; that's enough. You've 
 reached me. Don't say any more ! " 
 
 She began to feel sorry for the way she had attacked 
 him, feeling his utter loneliness. Finally he ceased 
 humming to himself, and turned. 
 
 "You're an honest, brave little thing a child!" 
 he said slowly. " I don't know you at all. Who are 
 you ? What are you ? I've only met you at a couple 
 of rowdy parties, and yet you talk this way ! Are you 
 straight?" 
 
 "Mr. Lindaberry!" 
 
 " I mean no offense I wouldn't care. You're 
 genuine, that's the thing! I'm your friend, proud to 
 be ! Tell me about yourself ! " 
 
 She saw that social judgments meant nothing to 
 him; in fact, she was rather touched by the thought 
 that, even if she had not been what he called 
 " straight," he would have given her a loyal respect. 
 
 " Me? " she said dreamily. " I don't know what to 
 tell you! I come from nothing a little town way 
 out in Ohio. Never had a home sort of turned 
 over to an aunt and uncle. I've shifted for myself, 
 but I've never lost my nerve. I was bound to get into 
 a bigger life, to do something if only to be free, to 
 live! I've done a lot of foolish things, I suppose, be- 
 cause I'm a little crazy myself can't resist excite- 
 ment!"
 
 244 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 "You shouldn't have gone to that party at Sas- 
 soon's," he said. " You are too innocent to under- 
 stand what it meant ! " 
 
 " I'm not living in a sheltered house ! " she pro- 
 tested. " I'm hurting no one. I face the world by 
 myself, stand on my own feet, and I can take care of 
 myself. I'm not ignorant ! " 
 
 " Yes, you are. You can't know. You think you 
 can, but you can't know ! No girl can, until until 
 she's caught ! " He looked at her steadily. " You 
 know, at bottom you are a child. That's the danger! 
 What the devil sent you out here to-night? " 
 
 " A good angel, perhaps," she said evasively. 
 
 He laughed obstinately, but with less resistance. 
 
 " No, that isn't it ! " she said impulsively. " I am 
 in a reckless mood myself. I am hurt oh, so hurt! 
 Disappointed in a man. You see, we are comrades, in 
 a way! " 
 
 " Good God ! Who could have hurt you ! " he said 
 roughly. 
 
 " It was all a mistake ; it wasn't meant, perhaps, but 
 that doesn't help much ! " 
 
 He reached out his hand and laid it comfortingly 
 over her shoulder, surprising her with the tenderness 
 in his touch and in his voice. 
 
 " Sorry ! I know. Queer, isn't it ? We are sort 
 of in the same boat! Queer world! Who'd have 
 thought we'd ended up this way? Funny! You start 
 up some of the old thoughts in me. I could have 
 done something once, if I'd only had to! But I be-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 243 
 
 long to a cursed second generation. We Americans 
 weren't meant to be loafers ! " 
 
 " Why are you, then ? " she said impulsively. 
 " Listen ! I was hard on you when I went for you 
 a moment ago! Mr. Lindaberry, we are in the same 
 boat. Let me help you see what I can do! No, 
 wait ! I'm speaking what I feel ! I've been cruel my- 
 self, very cruel " 
 
 "Don't believe it!" 
 
 " Yes, yes, I have ; I've made others suffer ! " 
 
 " Then it was their fault ! " he said obstinately. 
 
 " It would mean, just now, a lot to me to count for 
 something," she rushed on. " I can't tell you all the 
 reasons I don't know all but I believe what I feel 
 here to-night is the best in me. There is something 
 in all this; I know there's some reason, back of it all, 
 why we have been sent here. Oh, Mr. Lindaberry, 
 do let me help! " 
 
 " Save me ? " he asked, with an ugly laugh. 
 
 " Yes, save you ! " 
 
 A long silence, in which she watched him breath- 
 lessly, hoping for an answer. 
 
 " Fight it out! " she insisted. 
 
 He turned suddenly, wondering if she knew how 
 felicitous had been her appeal. 
 
 " Why, Dodo, I'm pretty far gone! " he said sadly. 
 
 "Coward!" 
 
 " No, by God ! " he said fiercely. 
 
 " Let me see you fight, then ! " 
 
 "What for?"
 
 246 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " For your own self-respect ! See here, Mr. Linda- 
 berry, fight it out for the love of a good fight, and 
 let me be in it. Let me help ! " 
 
 "You mean it?" he said slowly; then he nodded 
 toward all that surrounded them. " This, you know, 
 gets us sentimental ! " 
 
 "No; I want it!" 
 
 He laughed in his characteristic way as he did when 
 he sought more reflection. 
 
 " The bets at the club are two to one against my 
 lasting the year, Dodo ! " 
 
 "Then take up the bet!" 
 
 " Why, that's an idea ! " he said, with a chuckle. 
 
 He considered more profoundly, his arm still on 
 her shoulder; but there was in it no acquiring touch, 
 only a clinging the clinging of a weak hand groping 
 for companionship. 
 
 " I suppose I'm a lonely cuss at bottom," he said 
 slowly, nor did she follow his thought. 
 
 " Anything I can do I'll do," she urged. " It'll be 
 my fight too ! Come to me, call me night or day, when 
 you need me when things are getting too much for 
 you ! I'll come any time ! " 
 
 "You can't!" 
 
 " I can ! " she cried defiantly. " What do I care 
 what is said, if I know and you know that all is right ! 
 Thank God, I'm alone! I have no, one to whom it 
 matters what the world says. I'm only a waif, a 
 drifter!" 
 
 " Drifters both ! " he said solemnly.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 247 
 
 She stopped a moment, struck by the idea, feeling 
 their mutual clinging, and the incomprehensible, un- 
 seen winds of the night sweeping about them and 
 carrying them whither ? 
 
 " Listen ! " she added hurriedly. " This is my 
 promise. Fight it out, and I will help you by every- 
 thing that's in me! No matter whom I'm with or 
 where I'm going, I'll turn over everything, when you 
 need me, and come ! " 
 
 "Even nights like this?" he said. "For that's 
 when it'll be the hardest ! " 
 
 " Especially nights like this ! " she cried, opening 
 her arms with a feeling of glorification. 
 
 " Tell me something," he said slowly ; " and be hon- 
 est with me ! " 
 
 " I swear I always will," she said impulsively from 
 her heart, devoutly believing it. 
 
 " Are you in love now ? " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "Are you sure?" 
 
 His arm, as if suddenly aware of her body, re- 
 moved itself. He bent toward her, striving to see her 
 face. 
 
 An instant before, she had sworn to herself, swiftly, 
 in the exultation of a new-born spiritual self, that to 
 this man, at least, she would never lie ; and all at once, 
 by the divining charity of her woman's soul, bent on 
 saving him, she began her first deception! 
 
 " No ; I am not sure ! " 
 
 She had a quick fear that he would spoil everything
 
 248 THE SALAMANDER' 
 
 by an overt movement, and shrank from him, con- 
 scious of the male and of her sex. But at the end 
 he rose quietly, saying: 
 
 " All right, Dodo. The fight's begun ! " 
 
 If there were a double meaning in his words, he 
 gave no sign of it. He went to the front and cranked 
 the car, then drew the rug about her with solicitous 
 deference, that had in it a new attitude. He did not 
 even offer his hand to seal the compact, and for that, 
 too, she was profoundly thankful, watching him with 
 slanted approving glances. 
 
 "Whatever he does he will do magnificently!" she 
 thought. 
 
 "Comfy?" he asked in a matter-of-fact tone. 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 They shot out into the white road. He did not ask 
 her wish, but, as if sure of her acquiescence, went fly- 
 ing into the country, at times with magnificent ease, 
 at others with wild bursts of speed, break-a-neck, 
 the monster obeying the fierce exultant moods of the 
 master. She lay back in the seat, her eyes on the 
 jagged tree-line, where broken shadows spun past her, 
 and the stars swam overhead. She felt his mood in 
 every glide, in every resentful bound, knowing what 
 was in his spirit, uplifted into a new manifestation, 
 resolved, whatever happened, that to this one, at least, 
 she would give the divine that was in her. 
 
 It was three o'clock by the paling of the dawn in 
 the east, and the slinking scavengers in the streets, 
 when they returned. 
 
 She fell almost instantly to sleep, for the first time
 
 THE SALAMANDER 249 
 
 in long weeks. And as she tucked her hand under her 
 cheek contentedly, in perfect peace, she had a satis- 
 fied feeling that God, her inscrutable friend, had not 
 been so angry with her as she had believed; that in 
 the moment of her failing He had shown her this 
 way out. She did not question her feelings toward 
 this new man. Pity? Yes, a great compassion, a 
 tenderness and a sure belief in his protection, all were 
 confusedly in her mind ; but above all a great fatigue, 
 and a wonder how the night would remain in the beat- 
 ing clarity of the day.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 HER first waking thought was not of Lindaberry, 
 but of Massingale. It seemed as if he were be- 
 side her, his restraining touch on her arm, trouble in 
 his eyes, as on the night before when he had pleaded 
 with her under the hissing arc-lights and the back- 
 ground of curious creatures of the dark. Instead, it 
 was Ida Summers, curled on the bed, who was tickling 
 her arm with a feather, crying: 
 
 " Wake up, lazy-bones ! " 
 
 Dore comprehended, even in her foggy state, that 
 if such a reproach could come from Ida Summers, it 
 must be very late indeed ! She shot a hasty glance at 
 the tower clock; it was nearing twelve. 
 
 " Any broken bones ? What happened ? You're a 
 nice one ! Why didn't you come back ? Don't lecture 
 me any more ! " continued Ida, in rapid fire, and em- 
 phasizing her remarks by pinching the toes under the 
 covers. " Poor Harry Benson ! pining away, one eye 
 on the door and one on the clock! Which reminds 
 me he's coming for lunch." 
 
 Harry Benson had been the youngest and most sus- 
 ceptible of Dore's abandoned escorts. 
 
 " Oh, is that his name ? " 
 
 " Heartless creature ! " continued Ida, rolling her 
 eyes. " Three automobiles, shover, father a patent- 
 
 250
 
 THE SALAMANDER 251 
 
 medicine king. I might have married him, Do, if you 
 hadn't popped up ! However, this is my business day ; 
 I forgot. How'm I going to get hold of Zip ? " 
 
 " So that's the game ? " said Dore, laughing for 
 reasons that will appear. " Be careful how you do it, 
 though; Mr. Benson strikes me as a very rapid ad- 
 vancer ! " 
 
 " Yes, Miss Pussy," exclaimed Ida, laughing ; " ^ou 
 give very good advice in the morning. However, 
 I just must have a fur muff I saw yesterday, and that's 
 all there is to it ! Also-, my room's too small for vis- 
 itors, so get up and dress, as I'm going to receive him 
 here. What's Zip's telephone? " 
 
 " You'll find it on the pad," said Dore, rising pre- 
 cipitately. 
 
 " Good, the bait's planted," said Ida, presently reap- 
 pearing. " I told Zip to be most expensive; Benson's 
 a fierce spender! " 
 
 " How do you know? " 
 
 " A girl friend of mine," said Ida evasively. 
 
 " What's become of that little fellow you annexed 
 at the Free Press? " 
 
 " Tony Rex? Bothers the life out of me. Got it 
 bad ! Sighs and poetry. Jealous as a Turk! Doesn't 
 want me to pose wants to shut me up in a convent. 
 Lord ! I don't know how to shake him ! " 
 
 " I thought him rather insignificant," said Dore, at 
 the dressing-table. 
 
 " Nothing of the sort ! " said Ida vigorously. 
 " Every one says he's a coming man ideas, humor, 
 massive brain, you know, and all that sort of thing.
 
 252 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 Only only, he gets in the way all the time trip 
 over him. Well, are you going to give an account 
 of yourself last night? Say, what a shame it is some 
 squillionaire doesn't endow us! It's such a nuisance 
 getting your clothes ! " As she forgot a question as 
 soon as she asked it, she was off on a digression. " I 
 say, Dodo, it's a marvel how some girls do manage! 
 You remember Adele Vickers, who's in light opera ? " 
 
 " Chorus," corrected Dore. 
 
 " Same thing for the Johnnies only more so ! 
 Say, you'll die when you hear this ! I was up in her 
 hotel, calling, a couple of nights ago, just before din- 
 ner, when one of them married T-Willys blows in, with 
 a how-can-you-resist-me-little-girl look. You know 
 him Penniston Schwartz, money-bags in something, 
 death on manicures. Are you listening? " 
 
 " Go on. . . ." 
 
 " Del had no dinner in sight, so she winked at me 
 to stick close, and waited for a bid, one eye on the 
 clock. The old beau he oils his mustache and looks 
 at you with buttery eyes kept telling us we were 
 breaking up his happy home with our Resplendent 
 beauty, and a lot of fluff that was quite beyond the 
 point, for Del was fidgeting, getting ready to assist, 
 when the hope of the evening says : 
 
 " ' Awful sorry I can't take you little rosebuds out 
 to dinner, family, the dear family, you know, but 
 call up a waiter and let me order.' 
 
 "Order? You should have seen what Del con- 
 cocted! There wasn't a dollar-mark got by her! It 
 must have footed twenty plunks, at the least ! 'Course
 
 THE SALAMANDER 253 
 
 she thought he'd pay at the desk naturally! That 
 was the awful slip! No sooner had the waiter disap- 
 peared than he takes a fifty-dollar bill from his purse, 
 flips it on the table, and says, with a wink : 
 
 " * The change's for the waiter of course ! ' 
 
 " I thought I'd die choking, watching Adele, star- 
 ing from the bill to the clock, aching for him to go, 
 but quiet as a mouse oh, perfect manner, crochet- 
 ing away at a dinky tie until I thought the needles 
 would fly in pieces ! When the family man got up to 
 go, say ! you should see her bounce him out of the door 
 and leap to the telephone, crying: 
 
 " * Make that a veal chop and mashed ! ' 
 
 " Too late ? " said Dore, laughing. 
 
 " Well, we lost as far as the first entree ; but, as Del 
 said, the next time such a thing occurs, there'll be a 
 wise waiter on the other end of the line! Where's 
 Snyder?" 
 
 " They opened in Atlantic City last week ; expect 
 to return Monday." 
 
 " They say she's got a big hit ! Glad of it ! " 
 
 " So what's-his-name your cartoonist doesn't 
 approve?" said Dore, smiling. 
 
 " He's a perfect pest. Furious at Vaughan 
 Chandler and that crowd. Lectures me from morn- 
 ing to night heavens ! " 
 
 "What's wrong?" 
 
 " He's coming around for me at one. He'll be wild 
 if he sees Benson! Lord! Dodo, what shall I 
 do?" 
 
 " Leave word you're out with Josephus ! "
 
 254 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " That won't stop him ! " said Ida scornfully. 
 " He's liable to go to sleep on the door-step ! " 
 
 "Leave him to me, then," said Dodo, with the 
 facility of long practise. " I'll receive him while you 
 two vamose." 
 
 " I say, Do," said Ida, with sudden gratitude, " I 
 owe you a pointer." She went on tiptoe to the door 
 of Winona's room, listened a moment, and returning 
 stealthily, held up crossed fingers. " Don't trust 
 her!" 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Trespassing examine your fences all I can 
 say ! " exclaimed Ida, who fled laughing, not to be 
 cross-questioned. 
 
 Half an hour later there was being played one of 
 those little scenes so familiar in Salamanderland, the 
 secret of which may bring enlightenment to several 
 fatuous self-made young men of the world. Mr. 
 Harry Benson, a young gentleman of great future in- 
 telligence, now extremely avid of all the mysteries of 
 a puzzling strata of the feminine world, was strutting 
 contentedly in the presence of Miss Ida Summers and 
 Miss Dore Baxter, the actress, friend of such howling 
 swells as Judge Massingale and Garret Lindaberry. 
 The two girls, with a perfect sense of values, were 
 listening with accented indifference to his flow of self- 
 exposition, which consisted in a narration of how 
 many bottles he had consumed two nights before, how 
 much money he had won at bridge, what he had paid 
 for his socks, his cravats and the silk shirts which bore 
 his initials, when there came a slight deferential scrap-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 255 
 
 ing at the door, and at a quick summons, the figure 
 of a diminutive Jewish pedler appeared, doubled 
 under a pack, bowing convulsively, wreathed in smiles. 
 He had been christened " Zip," a contraction of some 
 unpronounceable name, and his motto was : " Zip buys 
 or sells anythings ! " He was a general intermediary 
 for the Salamanders, disposing of every conceivable 
 article when money had to be raised; and as he en- 
 joyed this confidential intimacy with lively and pretty 
 girls, he contented himself, good-humoredly, with no 
 more than two hundred per cent, profit. 
 
 " Oh, dear me, Zip," cried Ida instantly. " It's no 
 use come around some other day! " 
 
 " Brought der shtockings," said Zip, in an untrans- 
 latable accent. 
 
 " No money I'm broke to-day ! Next week." 
 
 " I trust you ! " said the pedler, advancing benignly, 
 perfect comedian that he was, by a hundred such per- 
 formances. 
 
 " No, no! " said Ida firmly. " That's not my way! 
 No bills; cash only! " 
 
 Mr. Harry Benson, who had been on the point of 
 indiscreetly offering a loan, bit his tongue, thoroughly 
 convinced by her manner. 
 
 " Oh, now, Mees Sumpers, beezness is beezness 
 ain't it right ? I trust you ! " said Zip, turning to one 
 and the other with a look of the greatest dejection. 
 
 " Next week next week." 
 
 Zip, during this preliminary canter, had slipped his 
 pack to the ground and was uncovering the tarpaulin. 
 
 " Bretty laties must have bretty tings ; yot ? All
 
 256 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 silk! Barkain! De most vonderful lincherie 
 feren frend shmuggles it through de coostom house. 
 Sh'h dot's a secret ! Look at dot hein ? " 
 
 " No, no ; don't want to see a thing. Don't tempt 
 me!" 
 
 "Mees Baxter?" 
 
 "Impossible," said Dore, laughing. "Bad month! 
 I'm saving up for Christmas presents ! " 
 
 " Veil, it don't cost nottings to look, eh ? " said Zip, 
 suddenly bringing to light a mass of pink and white 
 feminine lingerie. " Eef it don't embarrass de shen- 
 tlemans ? " 
 
 " Come on ! Let's have a look at them ! " said 
 Harry Benson, gorgeously excited at the idea of this 
 devilish pastime. 
 
 The two girls continued to protest, averting their 
 eyes, while the prop, alternately eager and hesitating, 
 afraid that too abrupt an offer would offend their sensi- 
 bilities, continued to run through the bewildering array 
 of secret silks and laces. Perhaps he was decided 
 finally by an encouraging wink from Zip, who thus 
 telegraphed to him that, being his friend, he advised 
 him to dare. Anyhow, very red and confused, he 
 blurted out: 
 
 " Look here, girls, don't be furious at me ! Give me 
 this pleasure, won't you? I've won an awful lot at 
 bridge lately. Let me make a little present ! By jove, 
 Ida, your birthday's next week. Let me beat all the 
 crowd to it. Vaughan'll be furious! What a lark! 
 And you, Miss Baxter, do have a birthday too, won't 
 you?"
 
 THE SALAMANDER 257 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Mine's just passed." 
 
 "Passed? Then I come in late. Bully for you! 
 It's a go, isn't it ? You're the right sort ! I can't tell 
 you how I appreciate it ! " 
 
 " I don't think I ought to," said Ida, looking doubt- 
 fully at Dore. 
 
 " It is unusual, but I think Mr. Benson won't make 
 any mistakes," said Dore, beaming on him with a smile 
 of confidence. 
 
 Benson shook her hand gratefully. 
 
 Zip rubbed his hands together in delight, wagging his 
 bearded head. 
 
 " Goot, goot ! Make de bretty kirls habby, 
 eh? Vat apout it, hein? Trow in de shtockinks, 
 eh?" 
 
 The two girls exclaimed furiously. Benson, laugh- 
 ing and roguish, defended the pedler from their 
 wrath, protesting he was loaded with money, crazy to 
 get rid of it, carrying his point in the end. Zip, re- 
 cipient of a hundred-dollar bill, departed, grinning and 
 wagging; nor did Mr. Benson, in the joyous delight 
 of this newly permitted intimacy, for a moment sus- 
 pect that the silks and laces which now lay so provok- 
 ingly on the table would presently return to the pack 
 of the histrionic Zip, at forty per cent off for commis- 
 sion. 
 
 For the accuracy of historic customs, another detail 
 must be added. When silk stockings were purchased, 
 the color chosen was invariably pink, one pair of that 
 color being in the cooperative possession, always at
 
 '258 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 hand, to be borrowed hastily and worn for a convinc- 
 ing effect on the last purchaser. 
 
 Ten minutes later Josephus produced a card which 
 Ida, on receiving, said: 
 
 " How stupid, Josephus ! That's for Miss Baxter. 
 Come on, Harry. Dodo's most particular and secre- 
 tive we won't embarrass her, will we ? " She 
 opened the door of Winona's room, lingering a mo- 
 ment behind the laughing prop to whisper : " Tell 
 Tony to telephone this evening. Say I've called up 
 from a studio had to finish rush job awful sorry ! 
 Be particular ! " 
 
 She disappeared, locking the door for security's 
 sake. 
 
 The next moment Mr. Tony Rex entered, in evident 
 agitation and surprise Ida and Harry Benson slip- 
 ping down-stairs by the second stairway as Dore was 
 saying glibly: 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Rex, Miss Summers has just telephoned ! 
 She wants me to tell you " 
 
 But she proceeded no further. Mr. Tony Rex wa^ 
 watching her with a sarcastic smile. 
 
 " Come off! Don't hand me any useless fibs, Miss 
 Baxter ! Ida's here ; I took the precaution to find out ! 
 What's her little game to-day?" Suddenly, as if 
 struck by an idea, he moved to the window. Below, 
 Ida Summers was just springing to her seat in the big 
 yellow automobile. 
 
 Dore had no time to prevent him; in fact, she had 
 momentarily lost her wits. One thing had startled 
 her on his arrival his shoes : patent leather with yel-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 259 
 
 low tops not chamois, but close enough to recall the 
 dreadful wraith of Josh Nebbins. 
 
 " So she's chucked me for a stuffed image like Ben- 
 son?" he said grimly. "Oh, I know the owner; I 
 asked the chauffeur ! " 
 
 " What a terrible man ! " she thought. Even in 
 that he recalled that other persistent suitor! Aloud 
 she said hastily, as he took up his hat : 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " 
 
 He affected to misunderstand the question. 
 
 " Look here, Miss Baxter," he said abruptly, " I'm 
 dead serious in this! I'm going to marry that little 
 kid, and it's going to happen soon! Likewise, I'm a 
 wise one, and I know just the game she's playing 
 and the dangers! Some of you can keep your heads 
 maybe you can and maybe you can't ! She's noth- 
 ing but a babe she doesn't know! That's why I'm 
 going to stop this fooling, P. D. Q. ! " 
 
 " Look out ! You can't drive a girl into things ! " 
 said Dore. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I can! Watch me! " he said confidently. 
 " Now, I'm going to find where they're lunching, buy 
 up the table next, and see how jolly a little party Miss 
 Ida'll have out of it, with me for an audience! Les- 
 son number one ! " 
 
 He was off in a rush before she could recover from 
 her laughter. Left at last alone, she sought to return 
 into herself, to adjust the Dodo of the day to the sur- 
 prising self of the night before. It even struck her as 
 incongruous that, after the depths she had sounded in 
 the silence and loneliness of the world, she should now
 
 2 6o THE SALAMANDER 
 
 be forced to return to the superficiality of banter and 
 petty intrigue. Lindaberry she thought of him as 
 of a great wounded animal lifting up to her a thorn- 
 stricken paw. He would come for her in a few min- 
 utes, according to agreement, and she half feared the 
 encounter. Would it be disillusionment? Would all 
 that had so enveloped her with the mystery and char- 
 ity of human relations now dissipate thinly in the com- 
 monplace day? Had they been swayed simply by a 
 passing sentimentality, as he himself had feared? 
 She did not know quite what she hoped. She did not 
 feel the slightest sentimental inclination. She did not 
 even attempt to dramatize herself as the good angel. 
 She had only an immense curiosity as to herself, won- 
 dering if she had really discovered something new, if 
 in fact it were possible for the same Dore, who self- 
 ishly, in will-o'-the-wisp fashion, enticed men on to 
 mock their discomfiture, could open up a flood of 
 womanly strength to one who came to her in weakness. 
 
 To return into the exaltation of the night was im- 
 possible. After all, the day was perhaps more real 
 than the moods of dreams. She looked on the experi- 
 ence in a comfortable, satisfied way, always incredu- 
 lous of her deeper moods, inclined to shun them with 
 a defensive instinct that life was safer when lived on 
 the surface. 
 
 But the night which had awakened so many dormant 
 yearnings had brought back to her again the famine 
 in her own soul. Lindaberry was yet confused, Mas- 
 singale clear and insistent. She had arrived, at last, 
 in her tortuous feminine logic, to the point where, in
 
 THE SALAMANDER '261 
 
 her longing, she was willing to ask herself if there 
 were any excuse for what he had done. Once she 
 sought to excuse him, she found small difficulty. He 
 had been very much of a gentleman. She had led him 
 on, tried him beyond what was right; and, even after 
 the explosion, he had recovered himself, tried to leave 
 in order to protect her. There had been a moment 
 of weakness; but she had wished for that yes, even 
 compelled it. And then, he cared! Yes, that was the 
 great thought that emerged from the confusion of the 
 night: he cared! She knew it by the wound she had 
 drawn across his eyes, by the tone of his voice when 
 he had pleaded with her at the last. He cared, and he 
 suffered as she suffered, fought as she fought, to re- 
 main away! But he was married he belonged to 
 another woman! 
 
 Marriage was to her an uncomprehended world, an 
 impasse: a man disappeared into it as into a monas- 
 tery. When she had thought of marriage, it was al- 
 ways as the end of life, irrevocable, and she admitted 
 it only when some one came so strong and bewilder- 
 ing that nothing else mattered. She never had thought 
 of it as an experiment, nor as something that could be 
 rejected if found lacking. That man and woman, if 
 unsuited, could still be yoked together before the 
 world, living each a separate life in private, was yet 
 outside of her analysis of human experience. There 
 was the world of pleasure, and that world of duty 
 marriage. 
 
 Curiously enough, Lindaberry's story of his own 
 deception, and the marriage of his brother the
 
 262 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 glimpse he had given her behind the scenes of Mrs. 
 Jock had started new questionings. Who could 
 blame such a husband for what he did ? From which 
 thought she proceeded to Massingale. He did not love 
 his wife of that she was sure. What was the ar- 
 rangement, then ? Perhaps he too concealed his cares, 
 suffering in silence. Even the figures of the two men 
 disappeared before this new obsession. She sought to 
 create before herself the image of a wife of his 
 wife; for at Tenafly's she had not, in her agitation, 
 even turned to look. Sometimes, with a feeling of 
 guilt, she perceived a weak creature, gentle and shrink- 
 ing, all tears, before whom, at the thought of inflicting 
 pain, she retreated instinctively. At others, she saw a 
 woman in the imagined guise of Mrs. Jock, vulture- 
 like, scornful, icy, narrowed by worldly cravings, a 
 pretty brute. Then she had a feeling as if she were 
 flinging herself between the two, husband and wife, 
 shielding the man from the woman. 
 
 " I must see her! " she said to herself passionately. 
 She thought of Estelle Monks. She would find some 
 way where, unknown, she would be able to look upon 
 the face of Mrs. Massingale. And, not realizing all 
 the wilderness that was yawning before her, she re- 
 peated : " Oh, yes ! I must see her. I shan't have 
 a moment's peace until I do ! " 
 
 As if any peace were in store for her no matter 
 what she found ! 
 
 When Lindaberry came to take her for lunch at a 
 quiet country inn somewhere up the Hudson, she went 
 to him without reserve, surprised at the strength of
 
 THE SALAMANDER 263 
 
 the impulses of tenderness, solicitude and protection^ 
 that awoke within her. She had not yet named to 
 herself the danger of the first overt step back to 
 Massingale; perhaps, though, she intuitively felt the 
 set of the tide about her, and turned to this better side 
 of her nature. If what she might soon do lay beyond 
 the permitted, at least this man, this saving of a soul, 
 should be to her credit. Her religion was, indeed, of 
 the simplest. If God would not approve of her yield- 
 ing to the yearning to see Massingale again, or what 
 followed, at least he would notice all the good she 
 would pour into the life of Lindaberry. It was a sort 
 of bargain which she secretly planned to offer : Linda- 
 berry should buy her forgiveness! She felt glorified 
 by this thought, finding in herself depths of gentle 
 strength and maternal comforting which amazed her. 
 
 " Are we still dreaming, Dodo ? " he said to her 
 suddenly, when they were free of the city's clamor. 
 
 She smiled appreciatively. 
 
 " It's not a dream ; it's real ! " she said energetically. 
 
 " You've taken up a pretty big contract, young 
 lady!" 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 He thought a moment. 
 
 " And I. Five years ago it would have been like a 
 kitten toying with a ball. Now it's a question of the 
 will and the body! That's what we've got to find 
 out. The body's a curious thing, Dodo, and it has 
 curious ways of going back on you all at once, with- 
 out as much as saying ' by your leave.' There was 
 a chap in at Doctor Lampson's this morning chap I
 
 264 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 knew in college, strong as a Hercules, a body just 
 glowing with strength. He'll be dead within the year 
 galloping consumption ! " 
 
 " You went to a doctor ? " 
 
 " The finest. Wanted to get down to facts, Dodo ; 
 find out what's going on inside." 
 
 " What did he say ? " she asked breathlessly. 
 
 " He said it could be done ! " said Lindaberry in a 
 matter-of-fact way. "We talked over ways. But 
 first, I thought I'd give you another chance." 
 
 " What do you mean? " 
 
 " Last night, out there stars and all that 
 wasn't a fair start! How do you feel now with a 
 practical old sun winking down at you ? " he asked, 
 with a quizzical smile that did not conceal the intensity 
 of his suspended waiting. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Lindaberry!" she said impulsively. 
 " Do it for your own self ! Be strong ! " 
 
 "No," he said quietly; "I won't do it for myself. 
 I'll make the fight for you to please you, Dodo! 
 You've got hold of me as no one ever has. And then 
 you're not afraid, bless your childish eyes ! Well, am 
 I to do it for you ? " 
 
 She was quiet a moment, thrown out of all her men- 
 tal calculations by the swift electric appeal to her emo- 
 tional self that came with his blunt declaration. Men 
 had loved her sooner or later, mildly or with infatua- 
 tion ; but she had never before felt so deeply what she 
 and a divine hazard could mean in one life. Her eyes 
 filled with sudden tears.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 265 
 
 " Do it for me ! " she said gently, and the next mo- 
 ment her heart smote her as if she had been guilty of 
 a second lie. 
 
 " Now .is a good date rather close to Thanks- 
 giving," he said, in his chuckling Anglo-Saxon way. 
 Then he laid one hand on her arm and said solemnly : 
 " Wrecks oughtn't to get sentimental. I won't! But 
 remember this, Dodo: you're the first breath of real 
 life that's come to me. You've got hold of me 
 strong ! I'm going to win out for you and I'm go- 
 ing " He halted as abruptly as he had begun. 
 "Now, that's all till I get straightened out. If I 
 don't, forget it ! " 
 
 " But you will ! " she exclaimed, forgetting all her 
 resolves to enlighten him on the subject of her affec- 
 tions. 
 
 " There'll be some bad bumps," he said grimly. 
 " I've got into this night habit pretty deep insomnia, 
 and then anything to eat up the night. Lampson's 
 got some new system to try out on me. Later, per- 
 haps, I'll beat it for the woods; but just at present, a 
 few weeks, I guess you can do me more good than 
 anything else ! " 
 
 " Can I ? " she said gratefully. 
 
 " Yes. Time for lunch now. Are you starved ? " 
 he said evasively. " I'll talk over things and ways 
 later." 
 
 As they came back, he went into detail about the 
 fight ahead. Much that he said was technical, and she 
 did not comprehend all. Only that his body had been
 
 266 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 fed too long on the consuming alcohol to be too sud- 
 denly deprived. 
 
 " Which means," he added, with a smile, " that you 
 mustn't get discouraged if I break over the traces once 
 or twice." 
 
 "Send for me!" 
 
 " Perhaps," he said doubtfully. " If I do, you need 
 never be afraid, Dodo, no matter how much others 
 are. I would always do what you ask ! " 
 
 "I could never be afraid of you!" she answered 
 truthfully. 
 
 The impulse that brought her closer to him was so 
 strong that, though she said to herself that there was 
 nothing of the sentimental in it, it seemed to her that 
 it might be something nobler, more unselfish, more sat- 
 isfying than that which she had conceived of as love 
 between woman and man. She even went so far as 
 to wish to herself that it might have been different, 
 that she could have given him all without a lie, that 
 she could have gone bravely, casting the die, into life 
 with Lindaberry. If only she had not known Massin- 
 gale! To give, to be loved, was one thing, if she had 
 not known the blinding intoxication of being taken, of 
 loving! 
 
 Three days later, after a half confidence to Estelle 
 Monks, she went with her to a society bazaar where 
 Mrs. Massingale was in charge of a booth. It was 
 in one of the ballrooms of a new hotel, more overlaid 
 with gilt and ornaments than the rest, specially and 
 artfully advertised as quite the most expensive in the 
 city. As a consequence, the rooms were packed with
 
 THE SALAMANDER 267 
 
 a struggling gazing crowd, swirling about the coun- 
 ters where the social patronesses looked on with the 
 disdain of lap-dogs of high degree. 
 
 " This one lady in baby pink, sharp face," said 
 Estelle Monks. 
 
 In that brief terrifying instant, before she was able 
 to raise her eyes, Dodo was shaken from head to foot. 
 Never before had so much penetrating despair crowded 
 upon her in such a fraction of time! 
 
 She was at a counter of fragrant hand-bags, staring 
 up into the face of a bored, hostile, sharp-eyed woman, 
 struggling for youth and attention a brown little 
 wanderer from nowhere confronting a great lady. 
 
 "What can I sell you?" said Mrs. Massingale with 
 an instantaneous social smile. 
 
 She found herself answering, breathlessly: 
 
 "No nothing!" 
 
 The smile faded. The lady turned indifferently. 
 It was close, she had been on her feet almost two 
 hours, she was pardonably annoyed at this staring girl 
 and she showed it. 
 
 Suddenly, her face lit up, the surface smile on duty 
 again. A group of men advanced effusively, taking 
 her hand delicately, like a fragile ornament. She 
 turned, and perceiving Dodo leaning vacantly, said : 
 
 " Excuse me ! " 
 
 Without too much insistence she extended her fin- 
 gers and moved her from the path of possible purchas- 
 ers. 
 
 Dodo went, hurt, crushed and revolting. There had 
 been nothing which the other had not had a right to
 
 268 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 do, yet in those seconds she had experienced the deep- 
 est humiliation a woman can receive from another, 
 the disdain of caste. 
 
 She had come penitent and full of compassion. 
 She went in a dangerous mood; this woman, perfectly 
 correct, perfectly emotionless, perfectly cold and bril- 
 liant, might be Mrs. Massingale; she could never be 
 his wife! 
 
 " No, that is not a marriage ! " she said indignantly 
 to herself. 
 
 The thing she dreaded, and hoped for, had come to 
 pass. She forgave him, and she understood ! 
 
 Yet she hesitated day after day, until ten had passed 
 in a whirl, alternately resolved, alternately recoiling. 
 She had no defined morality. She was one of a thou- 
 sand young girls of to-day, adrift, neither good nor 
 bad, quite unmoral the good and the bad equally 
 responsive and the ultimate victory waiting on the first 
 great influence from without, which would master her. 
 She had no home; she was alone, a social mongrel. 
 She could only hurt herself. What her parents had 
 left her was only a heritage of lawlessness. Yet she 
 hesitated, frightened by some fear conjured up from 
 an unconscious self, like thin remembered notes of vil- 
 lage bells, across the tumult of worldly clamors. At 
 last, when she could see before her no other face, when 
 the sound of his voice was mingled with every sound 
 that came to her ear, when nothing else diverted her 
 a moment from the insistent drumming ache of the 
 present, she yielded. She went in the afternoon, just 
 before four, to the court in Jefferson Market where
 
 THE SALAMANDER 269 
 
 she knew he was, pushing her way through the miser- 
 able, the venal, the vermin of all nations, clustered and 
 ill smelling. 
 
 He saw her instantly as she came into the aisle.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 / 
 
 DORE had not been mistaken in her swift percep- 
 tion on entering the court room, heavy with 
 weakness and discouragement. Judge Massingale 
 saw her with a feeling of profound relief. Whatever 
 came now, the responsibility lay on her head, not on 
 his. Just how completely one memory had filled his 
 days he did not realize until he experienced a sudden 
 excited calm at the thought that she was there by his 
 side, and that the long weeks of struggle had been in 
 vain. 
 
 For, he, too, had struggled against every instinct 
 in him, warned by his clear and analytical brain that 
 his hands were on the curtains of a perilous and for- 
 bidden adventure. At first he had been immensely 
 surprised that in his forty-second year it should sud- 
 denly flash across him, from the depths of eyes of 
 cloudy blue, that he was as human as his brother. 
 The memory of the soft white arms against his cheek, 
 the ecstasy of the girl who, in a twinkling, had sur- 
 rendered to his domination, withholding nothing, 
 eager and unafraid, enveloped in the blinding halo of 
 complete renunciation and faith, her look when her 
 eyes sought his, her lips, the sound of her voice, the 
 naturalness of it all, the human directness, all returned 
 again and again to demolish and scatter the careful 
 
 270
 
 THE SALAMANDER 271 
 
 intellectual theory of conduct which he had raised for 
 his defense in life. 
 
 At the time when Judge Massingale, by a trick of 
 fate, had blundered upon the acquaintance of Dore 
 Baxter, he had arrived at that satisfactory station in 
 life when he could look upon himself as a perfectly 
 disciplined being. He had passed through a period 
 of embittered emotional revolt which had threatened 
 to carry him publicly into the divorce courts, and 
 through a deeper period of moral revolt which came 
 near sacrificing him on the altar of the social re- 
 former. Now he had come to an attitude of toler- 
 ant and amused contemplation of things as they are, 
 without fretting his spirit as to things as they should 
 be. 
 
 His marriage had been a purely conventional one, 
 contracted in the weak and vulnerable period of the 
 early twenties at the instigation of his mother, who 
 had become suddenly alarmed at a college infatuation 
 for the daughter of one of his professors. Within a 
 year the thoroughly unsuited couple had come to an 
 amicable understanding of the duties involved in their 
 covenant before the church. 
 
 Mrs. Massingale was incapable of an original men- 
 tal operation, but she was clever enough to combine 
 the opinions of those who seemed to know. She 
 thoroughly disapproved of her husband's soiling polit- 
 ical ventures, as beneath the dignity of a gentleman. 
 Each week she devoted one afternoon and one evening 
 to the encouragement of the arts; the rest was given 
 over to the punctilious performance of the proper so-
 
 272 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 cial duties to those whom she disliked and who dis- 
 liked her. Absolutely cold and absolutely prudish, 
 she had not hesitated, in that hazardous period of 
 maidenhood, to effect the successful capture of such 
 a matrimonial prize by subtle appeals to his senses; 
 but as though bitterly resenting the means to which 
 an unjust society reduces a modest woman to secure 
 her future, she revenged herself on her amazed hus- 
 band by a sort of vindictive antagonism. 
 
 He had fiercely combated this marriage, vowing 
 he would marry the love of his college days, if he 
 had to carry her off in the good old way. But his 
 mother, being quite determined and unprincipled, paid 
 the girl a visit, and contrived to make the interview 
 so completely insulting that the rupture resulted im- 
 mediately. 
 
 In the third year of his marriage Massingale had 
 again become infatuated, this time with the young 
 wife of an elderly friend. As the married relations 
 on either side were identical, and each was chafing 
 against the irritating and galling yoke, longing for 
 life and liberty, the infatuation soon assumed tragic 
 proportions. She wished to break through every- 
 thing, ready to go openly with him until, their respec- 
 tive divorces secured, they could be married. He 
 passed eight days feverishly inclined, debating the is- 
 sue. But in the end, for the stigma that would lay 
 across his shoulders, for the reputation of the family, 
 the customs of a man of the world, and what not, he 
 resisted. 
 
 He had thought then that he had sacrificed the world
 
 THE SALAMANDER 273 
 
 and the heavens for a hollow recompense; but, as the 
 years sent the drifting sands of their oblivion over the 
 memory, he had come to look upon this emotional ad- 
 venture as a great peril avoided. He had believed 
 then in the union of man and woman as something 
 like a divine rage, all-absorbing, obliterating everything 
 else this in the bitter revolt against the deception 
 which had come in his marriage. Ten years later he 
 had arrived at the point of looking back with tolerant 
 humor, and confessing to himself that for his purposes 
 he was perhaps fortunate in a union which brought no 
 compulsion into his life, obtruded itself in no way, 
 and gave him complete liberty to pursue his intellectual 
 curiosity in unrestricted intercourse with men of 
 varied stations. 
 
 From law school he had gone as an assistant into 
 the district attorney's office, and the three years spent 
 in those catacombs of humanity had removed the 
 veneer of generations of inherited snobbery. The 
 first view of the vermin-populated halls of justice had 
 appalled him, and aroused in him a religious fury. 
 The spectacle of the strong riding the weak, judges 
 gravely listening to lying hypocrisies, criminals in gold 
 buttons and uniform, the insolence of power, the cyni- 
 cism of brains, and, below all, raw humanity gasping 
 under staggering burdens, mocked, farmed out, be- 
 trayed all this sank so profoundly into his young 
 enthusiasm that he swore to himself that the day would 
 come when he would lift up his voice against iniquity, 
 no matter how intrenched it might rest. 
 
 If at this time he had had the courage to break with
 
 274 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 social prejudices and seek reality and inspiration in 
 the love of a woman ready to sacrifice everything for 
 him, it is probable that he would have one day stirred 
 the sophisticated forces of the city to furious in- 
 vective, and accomplished little or great good, accord- 
 ing to the sport of chance. But the impossibility of 
 assuming responsibility before social conventions had 
 its effect on the thinker, too. He gradually reconciled 
 himself, lulled into tolerance by the good fellowship 
 of those whom he would have to attack. He still dis- 
 approved, but he added to the first fierce protestation, 
 " Things must be changed," the saving clause, " but I 
 can not change them ! " 
 
 Later, when, in a sudden burst of reform, a mayor, 
 revolting against the machine, appointed him a munici- 
 pal magistrate, he had progressed further, even to the 
 point of saying that things had always been the same, 
 here as elsewhere, that what was needed was to be 
 practical, to accomplish quietly as much good as pos- 
 sible, instead of shrieking into unbelieving ears. His 
 religious fury had subsided into a great compassion. 
 He sought to save rather than to punish. He became 
 known as a judge who could not be approached. He 
 had had one or two conflicts with the machine of the 
 shadows, and had come out victorious and respected. 
 He was known as a very courageous man. 
 
 Life lay agreeably ahead. As the emotional and 
 spiritual cravings departed, his curiosity increased. 
 Life on the surface, life as a spectator, life as the con- 
 fidant of others, watching developments, explosions,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 275 
 
 consequences, was very satisfying, without danger. 
 He knew from experience the sting of great emotions, 
 and he said to himself that that man was securest in 
 his happiness who depended on no indispensable 
 friendship, who cherished in his imagination no ambi- 
 tion linked with the stars, who took the laughter and 
 the smiles of women, and avoided the heat, the pain 
 and the soul-bruising of a great passion. Such love 
 was to him yoked with tragedy, conflict, disillusion- 
 ment, subjection, or crowned with final emptiness. 
 
 He had indeed become the judicial observer, watch- 
 ing with unsated amusement, through his thousand 
 points of vantage, the complex panorama of human 
 beings groping, struggling, crawling, running, bac- 
 chanalian with sudden hysteric joys, or crying against 
 little tragedies. His intimate acquaintance with men 
 of every calling, open or suspect, was immense. His 
 knowledge of the city, its big and little secrets, its 
 whys and wherefores, its entangled virtue and vice, its 
 secret ways from respectability to shame, its strange 
 bedfellows, the standards of honor among the corrupt 
 and the mental sophistries of the strong, was pro- 
 found. For him the baffling brownstone mask of 
 New York did not exist. People instinctively trusted 
 him. Criminals told him true stories in restaurants 
 where few could venture; women of all sorts and 
 conditions, passing before him for grave or minor 
 offenses, often returned for advice or relief from 
 blackmailing conditions. The police swore by him, 
 politicians admitted his fairness. He played the game
 
 276 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 according to their standards of honor strictly on the 
 evidence presented, never taking advantage of what 
 was told him privately. 
 
 He was not insensible to the attraction of women. 
 He sought their confidence, but returned none ; amused 
 at their comedies, as it amused him intellectually to 
 reduce a lying officer to terrified confession. Twice 
 bruised, he never attempted more than a light and 
 agreeable comradeship. He had that curious but 
 rather high standard of morality which one often en- 
 counters among men of his opportunity in life. He 
 prided himself that no woman had suffered harm by 
 him, which, translated, meant that he had never been 
 responsible. In fact, he shrank from the thought of 
 incurring responsibility. This was the horror that 
 had sent him from Dore, for he was honest in his in- 
 tellectual perceptions, and he saw at once that what 
 he had blundered into was more immoral than the 
 flesh hunter's seeking of the body, for this was traf- 
 ficking with a soul. 
 
 When he had first paused to study Dore, he had per- 
 ceived in her an unusual specimen of a type which he 
 knew and enjoyed immensely. The interesting 
 woman, to him, was the one who was destined to 
 arouse passions and leave disaster behind her. The 
 antagonism which had flared up between Harrigan 
 Blood and Sassoon over her favors, the resulting quar- 
 rel as she had escaped, amused him immensely. He 
 was not ignorant of the defensive alliance that existed 
 between the Sassoon interests and Harrigan Blood's 
 chain of papers, and though he judged too clearly not
 
 THE SALAMANDER 277 
 
 to doubt that a rupture was but delayed, it struck him 
 as the very essence of human drama that forces of 
 such magnitude could be shaken by the impertinent 
 turn of a head or a luring smile. 
 
 " Here is a little creature who is going to make a 
 good deal of trouble! " he thought to himself, .and in- 
 terested at once before the possibilities at her clever 
 finger-tips, he had said to himself: " I am seeing the 
 beginning of a career, anji a career that will be extraor- 
 dinary!" 
 
 With this keen curiosity in mind, not insensible to 
 the fleeting compelling lure of the girl, he had gone up 
 to her room, and suddenly, as, delighted, he had pre- 
 pared to watch the net prepared for others-, it had 
 closed over him. He had had his doubts about Dore, 
 that doubt which waits in the mind of every man be- 
 fore every woman; but all this left him the moment 
 when, conquered in his arms, she had clung to him 
 blindly, in ecstasy. He comprehended what had over- 
 whelmed her had overwhelmed her by surprise. 
 
 It was only when he had a dozen times sought to 
 compose a letter which would be neither caddish, 
 prudish, or brutal, that he perceived to what extent the 
 old departed famine in himself had fiercely awakened. 
 He had made up his mind instantly to master such a 
 peril, but he had not succeeded. His conscience rose 
 up at every turn, accusing him of cowardice. How 
 deep had been the wound he had inflicted? Had he 
 the right, for his own security, thus violently to sepa- 
 rate himself from the girl who, without artifice, had 
 suddenly revealed herself? And what would become
 
 278 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 of her? This latter idea pursued him constantly, 
 tormenting him. Finally, oppressed by the doubts 
 which her absence made to surge about him, he had 
 gone to her door. She had left that very afternoon. 
 He did not leave his name, but retreated hastily, af- 
 fecting to believe that Providence had thus interfered 
 to save him from a great calamity. 
 
 When she had flashed into his life again, that night 
 in the noisy Jungle Room at Healey's, as he knew she 
 must sooner or later, he was stricken with the sudden 
 imperious claim she exerted ovef all his impulses. 
 He understood all she sought to show him in the bit- 
 terness of her mood, but, beyond all the pain he saw 
 he had inflicted, he was terrified by the thought of the 
 danger to himself. He felt the fatality that waited 
 in the intensity of her nature, the fatality that for a 
 glance and a word had made enemies of Sassoon and 
 Blood. The sight of her in the arms of other men 
 was intolerable, and yet he could not avert his eyes. 
 He was afraid to speak to her, but at the thought of 
 her risking herself with Lindaberry, he had broken 
 through all restraint. When she had gone, he had a 
 feeling of thankfulness. He had done all he could to 
 prevent it. After all, what did he know of her? If 
 she could go thus with Lindaberry, what had she done 
 with Sassoon, Harrigan Blood, others? With fifty 
 desperate reasonings, he sought to excuse himself and 
 find a justified way out. But always the accusation in 
 her eyes, as she turned scornfully, disdainfully to him 
 in all the shifting points of the dance, remained. 
 
 " She will wreck my life! " he said to himself fifty
 
 THE SALAMANDER 279 
 
 times a day, to prevent his going to her. " Why am 
 I responsible? She knew what she was doing, that 
 night!" 
 
 But at the first glimpse of Dodo in the blue Russian 
 blouse, open throat and white toque turning into the 
 aisle, he had felt a profound relief. He had done all 
 that he humanly could do : he had resisted to the last, 
 struggled against the impossible; and, now that she 
 herself had resolved it, he felt immensely thankful. 
 
 The last case before him was one of daily occur- 
 rence domestic trouble. A young mother, baby in 
 arms, a child at her skirts, preternaturally bent and 
 worn, had summonsed her husband into court on 
 grounds of non-support, accusing him of intoxication. 
 He looked at the couple, seeing deeper the man 
 vigorous and young, the woman whose prettiness had 
 led him to vow eternal constancy, now lost in drudgery 
 and unequal burden. What could he say to the un- 
 scathed young male who stood staring at him with 
 awed glance bid him to love what he had driven 
 from her face and figure? The mockery of futile 
 charges ! 
 
 " Why don't you support your wife and children? " 
 he asked, for the thousandth time. " Why don't you 
 stop drinking? " 
 
 The husband, a young mechanic, promised volubly 
 what each knew he would not perform. 
 
 " Put you on probation for three months ! " he said 
 sharply. " She's your wife; you married her because 
 you wanted to. Now, stop drinking and be a man, or 
 I'll send you up to the island. Do you understand? "
 
 2&o THE SALAMANDER 
 
 The man bowed and went out, the woman at his 
 heels, dragging her second child, believing that a word 
 from His Honor could change everything. Massin- 
 gale watched them go, staring a moment, glanced at the 
 clock and ended the session with a nod to his officer. 
 
 " Does it interest you ? " he said to Dore, in a mat- 
 ter-of-fact tone. 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 She had not seen a thing that had transpired. 
 
 They went to his private room, noisy and dark as 
 the rest, the window-panes rattling at every elevated 
 train that went crashing through the air. He gave 
 his gown to an attendant, issued a few orders and 
 they were alone. Neither spoke, waiting silently the 
 other's advance, afraid to speak that first word ; for in 
 such moments it is the first who speaks who must ex- 
 plain. He continued to look at her with his magis- 
 terial stare, at bottom suddenly vindictive, resenting 
 this girl who had dared to return into his life, to re- 
 claim him to uncertainty and perils against his logic. 
 
 She extended her hands in a little helpless move- 
 ment, shook her head and said timidly : 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 A moment before, still counseled by his reason, he 
 had been on the point of a cold answer, resolved cor- 
 rectly to beg her pardon and make this interview the 
 last. At her surrendering gesture and the plaintive 
 note in her voice, a great pity brushed aside everything 
 else, and he said impulsively: 
 
 " I went once you were away. I wanted to see 
 you!"
 
 THE SALAMANDER 281 
 
 " I did not know," she said hurriedly, rushing at 
 the hardest to be said, " that night that you were 
 married ! " 
 
 " I understood that." 
 
 The court officer returned, announcing his auto- 
 mobile, and they passed out. They had said nothing, 
 and yet everything had been said. 
 
 " Where do you want to go ? " he said, smiling. 
 
 " Anywhere ! " 
 
 He hesitated, and then gave her address. 
 
 " We've got to have a frank talk," he said lightly ; 
 " then we can run up somewhere for dinner to cele- 
 brate. Did you notice Riley, my special? He's a 
 great character ! " 
 
 "Funny mouth; does it ever stop grinning?" she 
 said, joyfully, wonderfully, perfectly happy. She 
 leaned to him, whispering in his ear : " Was he 
 shocked at my coming?" 
 
 He was about to answer indiscreetly, but caught 
 himself. 
 
 " Riley? No; he's quite a man of the world ! " 
 
 The sunlight and the frosty December air restored 
 his clarity of thought. He would have the plainest 
 of conversations with her. If they could go on as free 
 comrades, well and good. Perhaps even a certain 
 intimacy were better; it might serve to readjust cer- 
 tain illusions that lingered in the memory. 
 
 He glanced at her sidewise, physically comforted at 
 the delicacy of her profile, the light airy youth that 
 hung about her, intangible as a perfume. He had 
 known ten, twenty women more beautiful than Dodo,
 
 282 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 more stimulating mentally, with an elegance that she 
 did not possess. It was impossible that this child, en- 
 ticing and gay as she was, could really have stirred 
 him to uncontrollable emotions ! With these thoughts 
 running through his mind, his confidence returned; 
 he even began to wonder at his former fear, holding it 
 ridiculous. If she were foolishly resolved in the con- 
 viction of a great passion, he was clever enough subtly 
 to undeceive her, to regulate their relations and keep 
 them within the safe limits of a confidential flirtation. 
 
 Pursuing this idea, he said nonchalantly, as they en- 
 tered her room: 
 
 " Do you know, young mischief, that you have a 
 great deal to answer for? Sassoon and Harrigan 
 Blood are at each other's throats. Blood's been 
 caught in the market, and is hammering the Sassoon 
 interests like a wild one. What have you been doing 
 with them all this time? " 
 
 " How false that all sounds ! " she said abruptly. 
 
 Disconcerted, he changed his tactics, saying seri- 
 ously : 
 
 " Dodo, you are a very combustible sort of person. 
 Do you realize the danger of what we are doing? " 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders impatiently, going di- 
 rectly to the issue : 
 
 " Tell me about yourself about your real self : 
 your home, your wife! I must know!" 
 
 " I don't wish to talk about others," he said, irri- 
 tated in his sense of delicacy. 
 
 " But I do ! " she said passionately. " I saw her. 
 There can be nothing between you and her ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 283 
 
 He made an imperative gesture, checking himself 
 immediately, saying with more restraint: 
 
 " There is nothing between us. Dodo, there are 
 some things I don't think you quite understand. 
 Whatever may exist, I can not discuss Mrs. Massin- 
 gale with others ! " 
 
 " ' Others ' ! " she said indignantly, turning from 
 him, deeply hurt. 
 
 He took her by the wrist and led her to a seat, feel- 
 ing the necessity of asserting his supremacy. She al- 
 lowed herself to be forced into it, looking up at him 
 with rebellious eyes, like a naughty child. 
 
 " Do you know the danger of what you are doing? " 
 he repeated. And then he corrected himself " What 
 we are doing ? " 
 
 Her face changed instantly, becoming very serious. 
 Her eyes looked past him out of the window, begin- 
 ning to be blurred by the gathering tears. He drew 
 back hastily. 
 
 " Why do you talk to me like this ? What is the 
 use of it all ? " 
 
 "Why?" he exclaimed fiercely. "Because you 
 are a child; because you try me beyond my patience; 
 because I want to be fair and honorable with you ; be- 
 cause I could " 
 
 She was on her feet instantly, clapping her hands 
 together. 
 
 " Ah, that's what I want to hear again again ! " 
 
 He halted directly, with a helpless gesture. 
 
 " Dodo," he said firmly, " listen to me ! I will not 
 make another mistake! If you don't realize things, I
 
 284 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 do. I want to be your friend ; I do want to see you ; 
 but, unless it can be so, I " 
 
 " Oh ! " she cried furiously, dangerously near the 
 point of self-dramatization. " Don't always reason ; 
 don't think of what is going to happen! Let's be as 
 we are! I can't help it can you? You know you 
 can't!" 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 " Don't talk to me of then! Think of to-day! Do 
 you think, when the first great thing has come into 
 my life, that I'm going to put it aside for what?" 
 She flung her arm out toward the ugly brick side that 
 symbolized to her all that she hated : " A little or- 
 dinary life, like every other ordinary little life? No! 
 I told you I won't be like every one else! It's true! 
 I don't want to live, if that's what life means ! " 
 
 He said to himself swiftly that he had made a great 
 mistake in coming ; that he would end it as soon as he 
 could; and that he would never venture again, even if 
 he had to run away. For every accent of her voice, 
 every flashing look, moved him perilously. 
 
 "What do you want? Do you know?" he asked 
 roughly. 
 
 " I want to be near you ; that's all I know now ! " 
 she said, folding her hands over her breast and clos- 
 ing her eyes. 
 
 "And the end?" 
 
 She was at his side with a bound, clutching his arm. 
 
 " Do you know what is the difference between us ? 
 I am honest; I say what I think! You are afraid to 
 admit what you feel ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER '285 
 
 " The situation is not the same," he said stubbornly. 
 " The responsibility is all on my side ! " 
 
 " Oh, Your Honor ! " she said sublimely. " Don't 
 let's talk! Don't you know it won't change anything? 
 It will be such a great, great love. I know it I feel 
 it! So beautiful! And what else matters? It's our 
 life, and you you have never really lived! " 
 
 Her impetuosity sobered him. He made a turn of 
 the room ; when he came back he was smiling, with the 
 smile she hated. " Dodo, I suppose at this moment 
 you think you would go off with me anywhere." 
 
 "Anywhere!" 
 
 " But you wouldn't ! " he said quietly. " Luckily, I 
 understand you ! " He shook his head. " Acting 
 always acting! " 
 
 "No!" 
 
 "Yes acting with yourself, dramatizing a situa- 
 tion. But that's all! Just another precipice! Dan- 
 gerous for you, but fatal to me if I were to believe 
 you!" 
 
 " Oh, I swear to you that isn't so ! " she cried, with 
 a gesture that he appreciated, even at the moment, for 
 its dramatic verity. 
 
 " Come ! " he said quietly. " Let's be good com- 
 rades. Don't dabble with fire ! " 
 
 ' You think, when you leave, you will never see me 
 again! " she said swiftly, surprising him by the pene- 
 tration of her intuition. She went to him, fastening 
 her fingers about him like the tendrils of clinging ivy. 
 " Well, Your Honor, I will never let you go ! Remem- 
 ber that! If you don't come, I will go and get you!
 
 '286 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 You have caught me, and you can never get rid of me. 
 I swear it ! " 
 
 She sprang away quickly, affecting nonchalance. 
 The door opened and Snyder came in, stopping short 
 at the sight of the two figures, indistinct in the twi- 
 light. 
 
 " Come in, come in, Snyder ! " Dore said hastily. 
 " My friend, Judge Massingale." 
 
 Snyder gave him her hand abruptly, with a quick 
 antagonistic movement, watching his embarrassed face 
 keenly. 
 
 "Just came up to get my coat," said Dore glibly. 
 " Going out for dinner ! " 
 
 They left hurriedly, ill at ease. On the second 
 stairway, in the dark, she stopped him, and approach- 
 ing her lips so close to his ear that they almost brushed 
 it, said: 
 
 " I am not acting ; I mean everything. It is to be 
 the great thing in my life ! " 
 
 He laughed, but did not reply. 
 
 " I understand her now," he said to himself, with a 
 feeling of strength. "She may deceive herself; she 
 can not blind me ! " Later he added uneasily : " If 
 I ever believe her, I am lost ! " 
 
 But Dore believed implicitly what she had said. At 
 the bottom, what was working in her soul ? That in- 
 stinct, second only to the nesting instinct, in woman, 
 that great protective impulse which alone explains a 
 thousand incomprehensible attachments. He had 
 taken her, caught her soul and her imagination, law- 
 lessly, unfairly perhaps; but there it remained, an im-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 287 
 
 perishable mark. Only one thing could atone to her 
 self-respect the glorification of this accident. Only 
 when into his acquiring soul had come an immense 
 overpowering love, could a renunciation be possible 
 which would live in her memory, not to recall blushes 
 of anger and shame, but to give the satisfaction of a 
 heroic sacrifice. But the danger lay in his incredulity 
 and resistance !
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 ON their fourth meeting a furious quarrel devel- 
 oped. Dodo had expected that, with the diffi- 
 culties of the reconciliation resolved, their relations 
 would be resumed where they had been interrupted. 
 She found, to her surprise, that only a new conflict 
 had opened. She did not divine at once all the hesi- 
 tation of his character, but she perceived an opposi- 
 tion which amazed her. In her infatuation, she 
 wished to run heedlessly, with bandaged eyes and 
 hungry arms, into these enchanted gardens of her 
 imagination. She did not wish to visualize facts, 
 hungrily seeking the satisfaction of undefined illu- 
 sions. That he should follow gravely, with troubled 
 searching glance, aroused in her a storm of resent- 
 ment. She little guessed at what price he paid for his 
 self-control. She could not comprehend this resist- 
 ance in him. What was it held him back? He spoke 
 of everything but the one vital issue themselves. 
 Unconsciously she felt herself forced to fasten to him, 
 as instinctively she felt him seeking escape. But al- 
 ways, while thus led to compel him on she refused to 
 consider where the road might lead. 
 
 Massingale, in fact, in the moments of her absence, 
 was continually torn between his impulses and his 
 logic. Logically he saw the danger without an at- 
 
 288
 
 THE SALAMANDER 289 
 
 tempt at subterfuge. He did not believe in her, and 
 he was certain that at the last crucial test she would 
 never break through conventionalities ; but he foresaw 
 that the true danger lay, not in her romanesque im- 
 agination, but in the hunger that would awaken in 
 him. Even the appearance of evil must always be 
 inscribed to his account by that judgment of society 
 that never goes below the surface and would persist 
 in seeing in the present situation only an inexperi- 
 enced young girl and a man of the world, married, 
 who pursued. 
 
 By every reason he sought to liberate his imagina- 
 tion, and only succeeded in enmeshing himself the 
 more securely in the silk imprisonment. To each 
 clear and warning argument a memory rose victo- 
 riously, confounding reason and bringing new longings. 
 When in her presence, he found the study of this 
 perplexing and ardent disciple of youth, who had 
 darted across into his life out of nowhere, one of end- 
 less mystification and satisfaction. He forgot all his 
 resolves in the sensation of gazing into the pro- 
 foundly troubling blue of her glance, watching the di- 
 vine subtleties of that smile which began in the twin- 
 kling corners of her eyes and glided, with always a note 
 of arch malice, to the childlike lips. Sometimes he 
 incited her to assumed anger in order to watch the 
 sudden lights that awakened in the cloudy eyes, the 
 sharp little teeth, brilliant against the parted red of 
 the lips, the heightened danger-signals on the cheek. 
 And when, in curious restaurants, removed from the 
 prying gaze of Mrs. Grundy, they ensconced them-
 
 290 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 selves, laughing with the delight of truants at finding 
 a hiding-place, the slight pressure of her foot against 
 his, a moment offered and a moment gone, created 
 new philosophies in his logical brain, and he repeated 
 to himself again and again that he would change all 
 to be a young cub, as the young fellows who sur- 
 rounded them, starting life undaunted and free. To 
 have the right, or to do no harm ! 
 
 Often, watching her sparkling mood, that showed 
 itself in a dozen laughing tricks with cutlery or glass, 
 mystified, he asked himself: 
 
 " Does she realize what this means? " 
 
 There lay this great difference between them he 
 sought gloomily to foresee the end, she was in rap- 
 tures only at the beginning. In this period which pre- 
 ceded the inevitable one when he would find subterfuge 
 and evasion to put his conscience to sleep, a period 
 in which he still felt the closing of the trap on his 
 liberty, and saw clearly because he still wished to re- 
 sist, Massingale asked himself logically where each 
 step would lead. How long could his embottled con- 
 trol be kept to phrases? And when, in one com- 
 bustible moment, he should obey the longing to recall 
 that hour when, conquering her, she had conquered 
 him, what would follow? 
 
 Shrinking from the thought of another solution, he 
 asked himself once or twice if, under her artless in- 
 souciance, there was not a deep calculation; or if, in- 
 deed, she were planning to upset everything in his life, 
 drag him into the publicity of the divorce courts, create 
 a new home, dissolve old habits, estrange old friends,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 291 
 
 and fasten on him new ones. He thought thus, not 
 because he thought honestly, but because he wished to 
 recoil from immediate responsibility. 
 
 Dodo had not the slightest care of the future. The 
 next month or the next week did not exist; the day 
 sufficed. She raised no questions; she contented her- 
 self rapturously with emotions. 
 
 " He will come at five how many hours more ? 
 He will be here at five where shall we go for din- 
 ner? Where can we be alone? He will come " 
 
 Her mind satisfied itself with such speculations. 
 If, at this time, he had again asked her seriously what 
 would come of it all, she probably would have an- 
 swered him pettishly, like a gay child : 
 
 " Oh, don't let's talk of annoying things." 
 
 He began a hundred comedies of resistance, some 
 of which she detected scornfully, others which eluded, 
 in their subtlety, her analysis. There were times 
 when, uneasy at the growing responsibility that she 
 was slowly drawing about his shoulders, he tried by 
 artful questions to convince himself that she was not 
 quite so innocent as he had believed. 
 
 " And how do you put off Sassoon all this time, and 
 Harrigan Blood ? " he asked her once, abruptly. 
 
 It was their fourth successive evening together. 
 They had gone to the " Hickory Log," a chop-house 
 on lower Seventh Avenue, secure of finding privacy. 
 The walls had been decorated to simulate ancient 
 Greenwich village; the floor, fenced off with green 
 palings, affording convenient nooks. In the back, be- 
 fore a spacious open oven, chickens and steaks were
 
 292 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 turning savorously over glowing hickory embers, that 
 mingled their clean pungent perfume with appetizing 
 odors. Up-stairs, in special rooms, some East Side 
 club was noisily celebrating over a chop supper, while 
 from time to time two or three young men in white 
 berets and coats came singing down the turning stairs, 
 saluting gaily the sympathetic audience. 
 
 Below, everywhere was the feeling of the people, 
 happy, prosperous, relaxed, feasting on heavy bour- 
 geois dishes flanked by huge bumpers of the beer 
 which made the " Hickory Log " a Mecca for the 
 thirsty. The floor was sanded, the tables bare of 
 cloth. Opposite them a young man had his arm about 
 his sweetheart, bending his head to her ear. When a 
 group of the revelers saluted them with enthusiasm, 
 each returned a laughing acknowledgment, but with- 
 out change of pose. 
 
 " How natural all this is ! " said Dodo, finding in 
 her hungry soul a kindred longing. " How they en- 
 joy things! We must come here often. This gar- 
 den, this table it shall be ours ! " 
 
 " And how do you keep Sassoon and Blood in good 
 appetite, little Mormon ? " he persisted. 
 
 She hated this incredulous cynical mood of his, and 
 she disapproved of the epithet. 
 
 " Why do you always begin like this ? " she said, 
 chopping off the head of a celery stalk with a vicious 
 blow of her knife. " I am not a Mormon, and you 
 know perfectly well that no one else exists now for 
 me ! " She turned, saw his quizzical look, and added 
 vigorously: "And I am not acting!"
 
 THE SALAMANDER 293 
 
 " Do, please. It is your great charm ! " 
 
 " You are positively hateful ! " 
 
 " Well, why did you encourage Sassoon, then ? " 
 
 She looked at him with a little malice in her eyes. 
 
 " I suppose you want to think yourself one of 
 many? " 
 
 This was too near the mark. He answered 
 evasively : 
 
 " All I wish is to be your father confessor, you 
 know!" 
 
 This simulation of friendship was another thing 
 that always aroused her. She wished to punish him, 
 and began to embroider. 
 
 " Yes, I encourage Sassoon," she said, leaning on 
 the table, nodding in emphasis, and switching a celery 
 stalk among the glasses venomously, like the tail of an 
 irritated leopard. " Harrigan Blood, too. And I 
 have my reasons. You think I am a wild little crea- 
 ture who never looks ahead. Quite wrong! Every- 
 thing is planned out. Everything will be settled 
 definitely soon ! " 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " On my twenty-third birthday on the tenth of 
 March. Remember that date ! " 
 
 " Very appropriate month," he interjected. 
 
 "Then I am through with this sort of a life - 
 good-by forever to Dodo!" she went on rapidly. 
 '' You don't -believe me ? I assure you, I never was 
 more serious ! Then I shall choose " she raised her 
 fingers, counting " a great love, marriage, career, 
 or" she ended with a shrug "lots of money!"
 
 294 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " I see," he said, comprehending her maneuver, and 
 yet annoyed by it. " And so Sassoon is a possibil- 
 ity?" 
 
 " If you fail, quite a possibility!" she said, to irri- 
 tate him further. " At any rate, I shall keep him just 
 where I want him until the time comes to decide ! " 
 
 " You could never do that, Dodo ! " he said sharply. 
 
 " Oh, couldn't I ? " she cried, delighted that he had 
 entertained the thought. " I'm quite capable of being 
 a cold-blooded little adventuress! Perhaps I am one, 
 and am only making sport of you. Beware ! As for 
 Sassoon do you know what I'd do ? I'd make him 
 give me a career, and then, when I am very, very well 
 known, perhaps if I wanted I'd make him di- 
 vorce, and become Mrs. Sassoon! How would you 
 like to meet me in society ? " She laughed at the 
 thought, but added immediately : " Oh, it is not so 
 impossible, either! Nowadays, a clever girl who sees 
 just what she wants can do anything! " 
 
 " Is that what you would do with me ? " he said 
 quietly. 
 
 She turned swiftly, abandoning all her pretense, pain 
 in her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, no, Your Honor ! Not with you ! I would 
 take nothing from you, now or ever! " 
 
 " Then don't say such things ! " he said, strangely 
 soothed by the passion in her voice. 
 
 "Don't be friendly, then!" she retorted, and 
 with a quick appealing raising of her eyes she laid her 
 hand on his. 
 
 " I must talk frankly with her ! " he said to himself,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 295 
 
 with a groaning of the spirit. " She will not face the 
 situation, and there can be no solution to it no pos- 
 sible solution ! " He turned heroically, resolved to lay 
 down the law, and his stern eyes encountered hers, 
 so troubling and so untroubled, tempting and yielding 
 glorified and inconscient 
 
 "I am so happy!" she said; and, in an excess of 
 emotion, as if suffocating, her eyes closed and her 
 breast rose in a long sigh. Arguments and fears went 
 riotously head over heels in flight. 
 
 It was almost at the end of the dinner before, his 
 calm returning, he said: 
 
 " Let's talk of your career. Do you know, I be- 
 lieve you'd do big things ! " 
 
 She glanced up suspiciously, judging the tone rather 
 than the words. 
 
 " You say that because you wish to get rid of me ! " 
 she said abruptly. 
 
 He protested vehemently to the contrary. 
 
 " Yes, yes, you would ! I'm beginning to know you 
 and your tricks ! But look out ! I warn you, you will 
 never get rid of me!" She rose impatiently. "I 
 don't like it here. We do nothing but quarrel. 
 Come ! " Outside his automobile was waiting. 
 " No, no ; let's walk a little. It's good to be among 
 people who are natural ! " 
 
 " I have a meeting I can not put off at nine ; I 
 told you," he said, irritated and impatient to be free. 
 
 It was cold, with a sharp, dry, exhilarating sting. 
 The shop-windows were set with glaring enticements 
 for the Christmas season red and green or spar-
 
 296 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 kling with tinsel and gold ornament. The sidewalks 
 were alive with the sluggish loitering of a strange 
 people, Italians, Germans, Jews from Russia, negroes 
 flowing in from dark side streets, occasional Irish 
 about the saloons, whose doors swung busily ; but the 
 signs above the shops were foreign, without trace of 
 the first Anglo-Saxon emigration which had passed on 
 to the upper city. 
 
 Everything interested Dore. She wished to stop at 
 every window, mingling with the urchins and the cu- 
 rious, prying into cellars whence the odor of onions 
 or leather came to their nostrils. He yielded his arm, 
 following her whims, and yet unamused. A police- 
 man saluted him, grinning sympathetically at the 
 spectacle of His Honor unbending. Massingale did 
 not look back, but he divined, with annoyance, the 
 smile and the interpretation. All this sodden or ab- 
 ject world, which passed before his eyes day in and 
 day out, with its unanswerable indictments, its bottom- 
 less misery, left on him a very different impression. 
 He saw in it the quicksands of life, where those who 
 steered their course without foresight sometimes disap- 
 peared, closed over by floods of mediocrity and pov- 
 erty. Natural and happy? He felt in it only a hor- 
 ror and a threat. On his arm the touch of the young 
 girl grew imperiously heavy, that touch which stopped 
 him abruptly or forced him ahead, unwilling, bored 
 and reluctant. 
 
 " I could be happy here very happy ! " she said 
 romantically. There was something in this that re- 
 called the few regretted sides of her early life. Sor-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 297 
 
 row was sorrow, and joy pure delight, and each 
 walked here, unhesitating and unashamed, unham- 
 pered by little spying social codes or the artifices of 
 manners. Her hand slipped down his arm to where 
 his was plunged in his pocket, closing over it. 
 
 " It's wonderful ! So free, so honest! Don't you 
 adore the feeling ? " 
 
 " No ! " he said abruptly. He had been thinking of 
 a college mate of his who had broken through the per- 
 mitted of society and married where he should not 
 have: a forgotten friend who had dropped out, who 
 might have ended, who knows ? in a howling 
 stuffy flat in just such a quarter. 
 
 She drew her hand impatiently away. 
 
 " I hate you to-night ! I won't keep you any 
 longer. Take me home ! " 
 
 In his own automobile, surrounded by the atmos- 
 phere of things he knew and enjoyed, Massingale felt 
 an easier mood. Besides, her indifference and flashes 
 of temper always exercised a provocative effect. 
 
 " What a little whirligig you are, Dodo," he said, 
 laughing. " Happy there ? You wouldn't last an 
 afternoon! Besides, romance is one thing, but think 
 of the dirt!" 
 
 " You want to antagonize me ; you've done it all 
 evening ! " she said, drawing into her corner. 
 
 He defended himself lamely, aware of the truth. 
 
 " Never mind ! " she added vindictively. " I shall 
 amuse myself to-night." 
 
 u Sassoon or Harrigan Blood ? " he said, pinching 
 her ear.
 
 298 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 She refused to be enticed from her offended dignity. 
 When they reached Miss Pirn's, contrary to his de- 
 termination, he descended and went up-stairs with her, 
 seeking, with a quick pity in his heart, to repair the 
 effects of his ill-humor. Then, judging the moment 
 auspicious, he began gravely: 
 
 " Dodo, where is this going to end? " 
 
 " What ? Which ? " she said, frowning and whirl- 
 ing about, as if she had not understood. 
 
 He repeated the question with even more serious- 
 ness. 
 
 " I want to be genuine ! " she said, stamping her 
 foot. " I don't want to be dissecting everything I do 
 before I do it! Whatever comes, I want it to come 
 without calculation ! " 
 
 He groaned aloud. 
 
 " Hopeless ! Crazy ! Impossible child ! " 
 
 " It's you who are impossible ! " she retorted hotly. 
 " It's you who are neither one thing nor the other ! 
 It's you who back and fill ! I am honest ; you're not ! 
 What are you thinking of all the time your wife?" 
 
 His sense of decorum was shocked. 
 
 " Dodo, kindly leave my wife's name out of the con- 
 versation ! " 
 
 " And why should I leave it out ? " she answered 
 furiously. " She's the one thing that comes between 
 us ! I hate her ! I despise her ! I could kill her ! " 
 
 "Dodo!" 
 
 " Do you love her ? No ! Do you care that for
 
 THE SALAMANDER 299 
 
 her? No! Or she for you? No! Well, then, why 
 shouldn't I discuss her?" 
 
 When she fell into a passion, he no longer heard 
 what words she said, fascinated by the impetuosity of 
 the emotion that shook her man-like, longing to 
 have it translated into clinging in his arms. He felt 
 himself beaten in this discussion where no logic was 
 possible, and he said desperately that he would no 
 longer quibble or avoid issues, that he would lay the 
 truth before her, and pronounce ugly names. But, be- 
 fore he could venture, the telephone interrupted. She 
 went to it joyfully, seeking a new means of tantaliz- 
 ing him. 
 
 He sought to catch some inkling of the man at the 
 other end, but her ingenuity evaded him. Presently 
 she leaned out of the hall, covering the mouthpiece 
 with her hand. 
 
 " You are sure you have to go to that meeting? " 
 she said, in a dry stacCato. 
 
 "Sure!" 
 
 Then her voice rose again, answering the telephone. 
 
 "Yes, indeed free. . . . Delighted. ... Oh, 
 longing for a spree. . . . How gorgeous! How 
 soon ? " She turned, glancing at Massingale. 
 
 He took up his hat, answering with asperity : 
 
 "Immediately!" 
 
 When she returned, they stood eying each other, 
 rage in their hearts. 
 
 'Thank heaven, now I shall enjoy myself!" she 
 said abruptly.
 
 3 oo THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " And who is the gentleman ? " he said. 
 
 " Any one you like ; it's quite indifferent to me ! " 
 
 " In that case, good-by ! " 
 
 " Good-by good-by ! " 
 
 " Good ! Now I am free," he thought, with a sud- 
 den liberation of the spirit, resolved to make this a 
 pretext for his emancipation. He went to the door, 
 but there a little shame made him halt. If this was 
 to be the end, he wished to leave behind a memory of 
 gentleness and courtesy. He returned and held out 
 his hand, saying: 
 
 " I have been rather ill-humored " 
 
 She looked up at him solemnly, hostility still re- 
 flected from his defensive antagonism. They had so 
 opposed and tantalized each other all evening that all 
 their nerves were on edge, vacillating toward a sud- 
 den obliterating reaction. He did not take her hand ; 
 his arms instead clutched her whole body to him, clos- 
 ing furiously over what he had resisted futilely all the 
 day every day since that first disorganizing em- 
 brace, until he could resist no longer. Her arms 
 caught him. She gave a little cry that ended on his 
 lips, her whole body relaxed, half turned and half 
 fallen, as he bent over her. 
 
 This kiss, wrenched from him at the moment he felt 
 himself strongest, obliterating useless exasperation and 
 futile combat, ended his resistance. From his soul 
 the eternal rebel cry of the transgressor went up : 
 
 "Ah, I must live!" 
 
 The moments slipped by unheeded, and still he held 
 her, imprisoned. All the stifled side of his nature
 
 THE SALAMANDER 301 
 
 started up. It seemed to him that all the genuine in 
 his life was in this kiss: the denied ardent self; the 
 young Massingale and the girl he had adored in his 
 first extravagant passion: the Massingale in revolt, 
 surrendering to the fear of the world, clasped in the 
 last renunciation with the woman who might have 
 been the past and more than the past, the present 
 and the exquisite pain of time, youth renounced and 
 youth fleeting. He raised her, convulsively strained 
 to his breast, closing his eyes, and breathing the same 
 air that came to her, as if pursuing on her lips the last 
 precious dregs of a cup that was almost drained. 
 
 " By heaven, I've done all I could ! I'm not going 
 to fight any more ! " he said, in a rage at her, at him- 
 self, at life. 
 
 And as, erect, he held his head from her the better 
 to study the faint face, the closed eyes and the parted 
 lips, her body swayed toward his, one arm wrapping 
 about him, one arm winding about his throat, the 
 fingers closing over his shoulders like the tendrils of 
 ivy, that subtle feminine vine that fastens itself to 
 the monarchs of the forests, stealing their strength. 
 Even in this moment he felt in her this fatality, but a 
 fatality that drew him recklessly, gratefully on. 
 
 All at once she had a sensation of fear as if the 
 victory were over and another conflict were on. She 
 sought to free herself, seeking air to breathe, afraid 
 of herself, of these half lights, neither day nor the 
 glaring night, of every vibrant sense, warned by some 
 still unmastered instinct within her, that struggled 
 through the dizziness in her mind and body.
 
 302 THE SALAMANDER . 
 
 She wrenched herself from him, springing behind 
 a table, and once liberated, feeling an instantaneous 
 buoyancy of triumph. He stood quietly, breathing 
 deep, locking and unlocking his hands. She stood, as 
 free as though a canon separated them, watching him, 
 her hands folded poignantly at her throat, her body 
 leaning toward him, victorious, mentally alert. 
 
 " Oh, Your Honor, Your Honor, what's the use ! " 
 she cried. " You care you do care ! Say that 
 you care ! " 
 
 His answer was an exclamation, inarticulate, con- 
 vincing, a cry rather than a word ! The next moment, 
 transformed, no longer calm, restrained, judicial, but 
 tempestuous, revealing and defenseless, he stepped 
 forward with a threatening gesture. 
 
 "Dodo, if you are acting! If you " 
 
 " Ah, that's how I like you ! " she cried rapturously, 
 flinging out her arms. " No, no fear nothing ; I 
 am not acting ! You will see ! You will be satisfied ! 
 When I tell you my plan a wonderful, beautiful 
 plan Only, first I must be sure ! " 
 
 She was transformed, radiant; but on her glowing 
 face and glorified eyes he saw, with a return of in- 
 credulity, the elfish lights of the dramatizer. 
 
 He stood angry, perplexed, defiant, examining her 
 with distrust. All at once he passed the table ab- 
 ruptly, caught her as she sprang away, turned her in 
 his arms fiercely, roughly, pinned her arms to her sides 
 furiously, more in anger than passion, covered her 
 cheeks, her eyes, her lips with kisses, and suddenly, 
 almost flinging her from him, rushed out of the room.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 303 
 
 She rose from the sofa where she had fallen, listen- 
 ing breathlessly, a little frightened, satisfied at last. 
 Then suddenly she ran to the window, flinging it 
 open, leaning out, happy, victorious, eager. He did 
 not see her; he was rushing down the steps abruptly, 
 flinging himself into his car, departing quickly. 
 
 The reaction from all the petty miseries of the spirit 
 which she had suffered in these days of fencing and 
 resistance had been so acute that she returned in a 
 perfect delirium of delight. Even the tragic shadow 
 that hung about it heightened the heroism of their in- 
 fatuation. At last she had shaken off the tentacles of 
 the dreaded commonplace. She might suffer; what 
 did it matter? All her life might pay for it; she did 
 not care! It was not an ordinary bread-and-butter 
 affection. It would be magnificent, like the great 
 loves of history, tragic but magnificent! And the 
 solution she had hinted of to Massingale, the end 
 which she had imagined in her rornanesque, runaway 
 mind was something that seemed so supremely great, 
 so extraordinary, that she abandoned herself into its 
 misty vistas without doubt or hesitation, radiant, con- 
 vinced. 
 
 " Ah, now I know now I know what the answer 
 is!" she cried rapturously. She went to the hostile 
 window, shaking her fist at it triumphantly : " Ugly 
 wall, horrid wall, hateful wall! You are beaten! I 
 am no longer afraid of you! That for you! " 
 
 And snapping her fingers, laughing gaily, she re- 
 turned, whirling on her toes like a child, crying: 
 
 " He cares he does care ! "
 
 304 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 But the moods into which she had flung herself had 
 resulted in such an intoxication of all her emotional 
 self that she forgot her first resolve to remain quiet. 
 She felt the need of more excitement : lights, music, 
 movement, noise! She was too exhilarated, too 
 tensely throbbing with conquest and recklessness. 
 She could never remain now alone and still. She re- 
 solved to go out, for a little while only, for an hour or 
 so. On her table was a note from Lindaberry, un- 
 opened. She had seen it on her first return. She saw 
 it now in all her whirling progress about the room, 
 imperative, appealing. But did she not go to it. It 
 represented to her a self that she wished to avoid just 
 now for this bewildering night of senses and emo- 
 tions. It was another world, the world of the hushed 
 spaces and tranquil shadows, where her vibrant the- 
 atric self could not rest. So she let the letter lie 
 unopened, fearing an imperative call, conscience- 
 stricken at the neglect of these last days. When she 
 returned at three o'clock, fatigued at last, she went 
 precipitately to the letter, carrying it to the gas-jet, 
 with an uneasy glance at Snyder, who was moving 
 restlessly in a dream. 
 
 "Dear Dodo: 
 
 " Pretty tough going. Tried to get you many times. What's 
 the matter? Tried to get you many times. Is the bet off? 
 Wouldn't blame you. Will stop at ten sharp. At exactly ten. 
 If you could it would mean a lot. You see, it's well, it's a 
 backsliding day at first, you know, hard going. 
 
 " GARRY." 
 
 The slight waver in the handwriting, the repeated 
 stumbling phrases, told her everything. In a fever of
 
 THE SALAMANDER 305 
 
 remorse and self -accusation, she flung herself on her 
 knees at her bedside, vowing that never again would 
 she fail him, come what might, resolved to run to him 
 the first thing in the morning and repair the damages 
 she had selfishly inflicted. She prayed fervently, ac- 
 cusing herself, unable to control her tears. Snyder, 
 in the dim luminous reflection from the windows, bolt 
 upright in her bed, watched her breathlessly, unper- 
 ceived. 
 
 The next morning, when, after vain calls at the tele- 
 phone, she went to Lindaberry's apartments, the jani- 
 tor, with a shrug of his shoulders, informed her that 
 he had not returned. It was not unusual : sometimes 
 he was gone for four days, a week God knew 
 where !
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 DAYS passed without word of Lindaberry, and 
 the fear of what might have happened was never 
 absent from Dore. Other anxieties crowded in on 
 her. One day she suddenly perceived that the bi- 
 weekly basket of champagne from Mr. Peavey was 
 three days overdue. She had heard little of him be- 
 yond the brief answers to her punctual acknowledg- 
 ments, nor had she availed herself often of the opera 
 tickets, turning them over to Winona, Ida Summers, 
 or Estelle Monks. The automobile had been needed 
 rarely, her entire absorption in Massingale leaving her 
 little time. Once or twice Ida had repeated her mys- 
 terious hints as to Winona and trespassing, but, ob- 
 sessed by the fever of new and strong emotions, she 
 had paid little heed. 
 
 All at once this warning returned with a new sug- 
 gestion. Had Winona, whom she had introduced to 
 Mr. Peavey, been trying to supplant her? She went 
 directly to Ida Summers, surprising her by the de- 
 termination of her manner: 
 
 " Ida, is Winona trying to cut me out with Mr. 
 Peavey?" 
 
 The look on the girl's face told her the truth of her 
 guess. 
 
 " How far has it gone ? What do you know ? 
 Tell me everything!" 
 
 306
 
 THE SALAMANDER 307 
 
 " I have seen them at the theater together, at a 
 restaurant once or twice." 
 
 "When? Lately?" 
 
 " No ; when you were in Buffalo . . . ' 
 
 "Alone?" 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "But since I have been back? Think! Be sure! " 
 
 " I am not sure, Do," said Ida slowly. " Lord ! 
 don't look as if you'd eat me up! " 
 
 " But you think " 
 
 " I think he took her to the opera Monday night." 
 
 Dodo returned to her room in a rage. She divined 
 at once the cleverness of the stroke. Each time she 
 had given Winona her seats, the girl had called up 
 Mr. Peavey as an escort thus, even without a word, 
 convincing him how lightly his presents were held. 
 How far had Winona gone? She remembered now 
 that since her return she had hardly seen her. Had 
 Winona been deliberately avoiding her? Was she 
 playing to marry Mr. Peavey? Had she gone so far 
 even as to tell him of the true uses to which his pres- 
 ents were put? 
 
 Dodo, who was generosity itself, had also, when her 
 sense of injustice was aroused, unfathomed depths of 
 hatred and vindictiveness. Winona, to whom she had 
 opened her slender purse a dozen times, whom she had 
 placed with Blainey at the moment of her despair 
 Winona, of all the world, to betray her! She called 
 up the garage and asked for Brennon immediately. 
 From him she would get some information. Then, 
 without knocking, she entered Winona's room. She
 
 3 o8 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 was not there. Dore, restless and suspicious, ex- 
 amined the mantel and the table, halting before three 
 vases of gorgeous American Beauty roses. 
 
 "Can these be from Peavey? That's not like 
 him ! " she thought, wrinkling her forehead. 
 
 On a table was a present newly arrived, a cabinet of 
 different perfumes, in red morocco and silver. There 
 was a card still on the top : " Penniston Schwartz." 
 
 " Don't know him," Dore thought, forgetting Ida's 
 story of the dinner. She continued her examination. 
 On the bureau were several bits of silver that she did 
 not remember seeing before ; in the closet a new gown 
 or two; but in all this no note of Peavey. What she 
 was seeking was a basket of champagne, and though 
 she sought under the lounge and the bed and in the 
 dark recesses of the wardrobe, she found no trace. 
 
 Nevertheless, her anger did not abate. Winona had 
 betrayed her: she would strike at once, and deep. 
 She would go to Blainey and make a personal request 
 for the part she had procured for the ingrate. When 
 Brennon arrived, she remained a moment talking with 
 him. Her confidence had solidified itself in him 
 lately ; from many things, she was certain that he was 
 her ally, that she could trust him. 
 
 " Brennon," she said directly, " is Mr. Peavey in 
 town ? " 
 
 " Left this morning." 
 
 "Then he's been back? How long?" 
 
 " Three or four days, Miss Baxter." 
 
 " Has he seen my friend, Miss Horning, much? " 
 
 He nodded energetically.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 309 
 
 " Look here, Miss Baxter," he said, with a sly im- 
 portant look, " been wanting to slip you a pointer 
 for some time. She's not your friend. Danger 
 ahead ! Look out ! " 
 
 " What do you mean, Brennon ? " Dore said con- 
 fidentially. " I wish you'd speak out ! Mr. Peavey's 
 been to see her a good deal, hasn't he? " 
 
 " No ; but she's seen him ! She's a sly one 
 clever, too ; wouldn't risk his coming here ! " 
 
 " Has she talked against me ? What has she 
 said?" 
 
 " We know what the governor's like, you and I, 
 eh ? " he said, with an impertinence that she did not 
 notice, in her distraction. " Well, she plays the quiet 
 game home talking, family type." He leaned for- 
 ward, looking at her directly : " See here ! This is 
 straight. If you've got your mind fixed in the gov- 
 ernor's direction, better grab him now ! " 
 
 "What has she said about me?" Dore said anx- 
 iously Then, suddenly : " Has he asked you any 
 questions? Where I go? Whom I see?" 
 
 He nodded, laughing. 
 
 " Sure he does every time ! Look here ! He's 
 one of those kinds you've got to snake with salt on 
 their tails. But he got nothing out of me! Trust 
 this old fox for that ! I like to see a pretty girl have 
 her fling as well as a man ! " 
 
 " Thank you, Brennon," she said, without much at- 
 tention, entering the car. 
 
 When she reached Blainey's office, she was forced 
 to wait some time, Sada Quichy being in conference
 
 3 io THE SALAMANDER 
 
 with the manager. The Red Prince had made an 
 enormous success, and the diva had leaped into in- 
 stant popularity. Of a consequence, Blainey, who 
 had treated her with abrupt tolerance on the night of 
 the dress rehearsal, now accorded her the honors due 
 to royalty. At the end of a quarter of an hour he 
 appeared at the door, according her the favor of a 
 personal escort, which she, comedian herself, repaid 
 with an extra languishing adieu, each sublimely indif- 
 ferent to the motley audience of actors, agents, au- 
 thors and musicians who assisted respectfully at this 
 sport of the gods. 
 
 Blainey perceived Dore, and giving her the prefer- 
 ence with a curt bob of his head, reentered his den. 
 There was in the gesture something unusually abrupt 
 that struck her. When she followed him into the 
 room, this impression was reinforced by the evident 
 atmosphere of ill-humor. 
 
 " What's the matter with you, Blainey? " she asked 
 directly. 
 
 He turned hostility in every movement fling- 
 ing himself back into his chair, cocking his cigar in 
 the corner of his mouth, running his hands into the 
 arm-pits of his vest, frowning, determined. 
 
 "See here, kid, it's no go! Don't start anything! 
 You've worked me for a sucker once! . . . Thanks; 
 I've retired from charity committees ! " 
 
 " What do you mean ? I don't understand ! " 
 
 " Ain't you come here to get me to take back that 
 stuffed doll you panned off on me ? "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 311 
 
 " Take back ! " she cried, amazed. " You mean to 
 say Homing's fired ? " 
 
 " Come off ! " he said, grinning. 
 
 " Honest, Blainey, I didn't know ! Since when ? " 
 
 "Ten days. Say, she was fierce! I wouldn't 
 trust her to carry a spear! The next time you try 
 to work me, kid, on the charity racket, just pick my 
 pockets. It'll save time ! " 
 
 " Horning fired ! " she repeated, suddenly fur- 
 nished with a clue to all that had happened. 
 
 " Clever kid ! " he said, watching her apprecia- 
 tively. " You don't have to be taught ! " 
 
 " Honest, Blainey, I didn't know ! " 
 
 "What you come here for?" 
 
 " I came to get you to bounce her," she said. 
 "That's straight!" 
 
 He gave a long delighted whistle. 
 
 " Cripes ! Why, pussy's got claws ! You don't 
 say! What's she been up to? Crossing the heart 
 line?" he added, possessed always with the idea that 
 he had divined the cause of her troubles. 
 
 " No. Tried to double-cross me with a friend - 
 but one that counted! However, if she's bounced, 
 all right ! No need to bother you ! " 
 
 " No hurry, no hurry, kid! " he said, with profound 
 disdain for the forty-odd clamorers in the outer pur- 
 gatory. " Don't get a chance to look you over often. 
 Well, how's the heart? " 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 "Better!"
 
 312 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " What's that mean worse ? " 
 
 "Perhaps!" 
 
 He shifted his cigar. 
 
 " Better get to work ! " 
 
 " Be patient ! " she said, shaking her curls. " Only 
 three months more ! " 
 
 "Hein?" 
 
 " The tenth of March is when my season closes ! " 
 
 "Honest?" 
 
 "Quite so!" 
 
 "You'll begin to work?" 
 
 " Either that, or other things ! " she said provok- 
 ingly. 
 
 "What other things?" 
 
 "Oh, I might marry!" 
 
 He snorted with rage. Then, drawing his calen- 
 dar to him, he turned ahead. 
 
 " March ten, eh ? " He paused, and put a big cross 
 on the day before. " I'd like an option of the ninth 
 myself!" 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " Let me discuss a little contract with you before 
 you come to any other decision. What do you say? 
 Promise ! " 
 
 She laughed. She had no illusions in her mind as 
 to the nature of what he might propose. 
 
 "Listen to what I've in mind before you close any- 
 where else ! " he persisted. 
 
 "All right, Blainey!" 
 
 He rose, dragging himself up from his chair. 
 
 " Heavens, Blainey, do I get the honors of Sada
 
 THE SALAMANDER 313 
 
 Quichy ? " she said, laughing, as she perceived his in- 
 tention was to accompany her to the outer door. 
 
 " Come to me, kid, when you need a tip or for any- 
 thing else ! " he said quietly. He put out his stumpy 
 hand, tapping her shoulder. " I'd like to do a lot for 
 you 'know that, don't you? All right! Good 
 luck!" 
 
 She gave him a quick pressure of her hand and 
 went out. The atmosphere of the theater always im- 
 pressed her, throwing her other life into futile out- 
 lines. Here was something definite the satisfac- 
 tion of a purpose, the reality of work. And as she 
 returned, thinking of Massingale, of the wild romance 
 she had created for themselves, she felt more and 
 more drawn to a career. A woman who achieved 
 things, who had even a trace of genius, had a right, 
 in the eyes of the world, to her own life, to be judged 
 differently. 
 
 The news she had received of Winona doubled her 
 suspicions. If this chance had failed the girl, no 
 wonder that she had set herself deliberately toward a 
 marriage with Peavey. Dodo was wildly indignant 
 at this double dealing. She considered the least of 
 her admirers her inviolate property, and she never 
 saw one desert without a feeling of resentment. In 
 Peavey's case it was thrice blameworthy, considering 
 all the prodigies of planning she had spent to bring 
 him to the point and maintain him in the status quo. 
 For Peavey was in truth, as Judge Massingale had 
 laughingly expressed it, the " man behind the rock," 
 and even in the wildest flights of her imagination she
 
 314 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 retained, unconsciously, a prudent spirit toward the 
 uncharted future. She might fly in the face of soci- 
 ety, and then, again, at the last, she might not find in 
 herself all the audacity she desired to believe in. 
 Peavey was a bridge back into conventionality, se- 
 curity and certain necessary luxuries which she never 
 for a moment, in her thrifty mind, intended to neg- 
 lect. 
 
 As soon as she reached her room, she sat down to 
 write to him. This letter called for her deepest intu- 
 ition; it was a very difficult letter to compose. She 
 tried a dozen methods, rejecting each as too obvious. 
 In the midst of her labors, Josephus, to her surprise, 
 arrived with the basket of champagne, which, 
 strangely enough, it appeared, had been below, for- 
 got, all this time. This at once relieved her, and sug- 
 gested a bold stroke. She wrote: 
 
 "Dear Mr. Peavey: 
 
 " Thank you for the champagne. Certain things which have 
 come to my knowledge make it impossible for me to accept any 
 more such favors from you. Indeed, I reproach myself for what 
 I have permitted in the past. But I have always had a different 
 feeling about you, a real respect and trust, and I have always 
 believed in you as an ideal of what a gentleman should be. I 
 am very disappointed very sad. 
 
 " Sincerely yours, 
 
 " DOR BAXTER. 
 
 " P. S. I thank you also for your automobile, which I shall 
 never use again. 
 
 " P. P. S. I return the remaining tickets to the opera." 
 
 She studied this, well content with its indefinite re- 
 proach.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 315 
 
 " There ; he will believe I know more than I know," 
 she said, with a bob of her head, " and he will have 
 to come to me in person. That is better ! " 
 
 Once Mr. Peavey was before her eyes, she had no 
 doubt of the interview. She posted the letter imme- 
 diately, telephoned again without being able to re- 
 ceive any news of Lindaberry, and went out to shop 
 for Christmas presents for each of her score of ad- 
 mirers presents which she would see were care- 
 fully delivered to their destinations by three o'clock 
 on the preceding day. For a month she had care- 
 fully gone over her acquaintances, much as a fisher- 
 man overhauls his nets, consecrating hours at the tele- 
 phone, fanning back into substantial flames little 
 sparks of intimacy that were sinking into gray for- 
 get fulness. She did not throw herself into such 
 machinations with any relish, but as a necessity forced 
 upon her; yet, once embarked, she did nothing by 
 halves. She lunched, motored, descended for tea, 
 dined, dipped into theaters and danced without a rest. 
 She even revived the hopes of Harrigan Blood and 
 Sassoon by a few discreet concessions matinee 
 performances, tea at five, or an innocuous luncheon. 
 
 With Massingale she was still far from that 
 moment when she could distinguish the man who was 
 from the romantic ideal her imagination had visual- 
 ized. After the second meeting in her rooms, 
 when she had a second time reached the man in the 
 raw, each, as if by mutual consent, had avoided fur- 
 ther opportunities of dangerous intimacy, each a bit 
 apprehensive. But the conflict between them contin-
 
 316 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 ued. There were moments when he seemed to aban- 
 don his attitude of incredulity, relaxing into humor- 
 ous or confidential moods, and others when he seemed 
 to be flinging barricades between them. If he 
 had planned deliberately to seduce her (which God 
 knows he hadn't!) he could have adopted no more 
 adroit means than this intermittent opposition which 
 rose from the struggle in his own conscience. She 
 could not brook the slightest resistance in him. It 
 roused in her a passion for subjugation, an instinct 
 for reprisals which sought insistently to reverse the 
 original roles. 
 
 In the moments of these half-hearted retreats he 
 adopted a policy of far-off analysis, putting questions 
 with impersonal directness, inviting her into indis- 
 creet confidences. She divined that all this curiosity 
 had one instinctive object to discover something in 
 her harum-scarum present or devious past that could 
 roughly and effectively repel him. At such times she 
 responded with a violent antagonism, paying him 
 back in coin, tantalizing him, inventing stories to 
 plague him, and always succeeding. Once she said to 
 him: 
 
 "You know Sassoon's getting reckless. Look out! 
 Some day I'll disappear ! " 
 
 He chuckled, inciting her on. 
 
 " You needn't laugh ! I'm serious he's serious, 
 too. Where do you think I went this afternoon? 
 To look at a house. Oh, the loveliest little house, a 
 little jewel-box within a stone's-throw of you, too;
 
 THE SALAMANDER 317 
 
 and everything beautifully furnished, wonderful 
 rugs, bedrooms in old red brocade, like a palace ! " 
 She continued with an account of details, warming up 
 to the part : " Sassoon began by talking apartments. 
 But I killed that quickly. Entirely too common ! " 
 
 " But the house ? " he said, forcing a smile. 
 
 " Only one thing lacking ; yes, and I told him so at 
 once flat, like that ! " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "No garage!" 
 
 He affected to laugh hugely at this bit of fiction. 
 
 When he sought to explore her history she was 
 ready with another artfully contrived story to infuri- 
 ate him: 
 
 "My life? Oh, it's terribly exciting! Father 
 was a gambler Mississippi River, mining-camps and 
 all sorts of dangerous places. Mother was in the 
 circus, bareback riding hoops, you know. They 
 separated when I was five; had a terrible fight, they 
 say. I went around with the circus, in the proces- 
 sions, dressed as a star. Mother was teaching me the 
 tight-rope; I'd learned a bit of acrobating, too. 
 There was a funny old clown." 
 
 She stopped, with a far-off pensive look. When 
 she invented a story she had a natural gift for dra- 
 matic detail. She said very sadly, as if conjuring up 
 the figure of a mournful child, sinking her voice to a 
 whisper : 
 
 " My mother drank. When she was in her 
 tantrums she was very cruel to me she beat me ! I
 
 3i8 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 remember my poor little arms and legs all blistered 
 and smarting! Then I used to run to Jocko that 
 was the funny old clown's name. He had three col- 
 ors in his hair, red, white and brown all natural, 
 too ! Jocko used to put a poultice on my wounds and 
 give me candy. I loved old Jocko; he taught me the 
 back-somersault, too. Then mother ran off with a 
 dentist one of the kind that travel around in a 
 band-wagon from village to village, teeth-pullers, you 
 know, and whenever a tooth is to be taken out the 
 bass-drum goes off bang! so you don't notice the pain. 
 The dentist hated me! He was a horribly tall, long 
 man with a broken nose. I can see him leering down 
 at me like an ogre and saying: 
 
 " ' Soon as you get your second teeth, little brat, 
 I'll make a fine set out of 'em, worth seventy plunks 
 at the least. Just you wait ! ' 
 
 " He used to pinch me and box my ears when 
 mother wasn't looking ! " 
 
 She considered this phase thoughtfully, satisfied 
 that she had done it justice, and said suddenly: 
 
 " Then, one night, father turned up. Whew ! that 
 was a scene! He came up suddenly just as Crouch 
 
 that's the dentist had finished with the cymbals 
 and was beginning: 
 
 " ' Ladies and gentlemjen, I come not to take your 
 hard-earned money, but to do you good ! ' 
 
 " He always began like that. I can see it all now 
 
 the kerosene lamps flaring below, the country 
 crowd standing around, gaping, and all of a sudden a 
 Spanish-looking man, broad-shouldered, pushing his
 
 THE SALAMANDER 319 
 
 way violently through them all, and then mother 
 shrieking : 
 
 " ' My God ! Crouch, it's Baxter ! ' " 
 
 She drew a quick breath; the recital had made her 
 tremble a little. He watched her closely, with that 
 lantern stare with which he transfixed the accused at 
 the bar, amazed at her exhibition, incredulous, and 
 yet with a lingering wonder. 
 
 " Mother got away," she said, resuming. " Crouch 
 was laid up in a hospital for months, they told me. 
 Father took me with him. He was very kind, very; 
 but it was a terrible life; rough company, squabbling 
 and shooting, no home, no rest, always taking French 
 leave! Then he struck a run of luck and made 
 enough to strike for Gold Fields and open a saloon 
 faro at the back. Gold Fields was worse. Every 
 one drunk by eight o'clock at night; poker and faro 
 until breakfast!" 
 
 " And you saw all that? " he said gravely. 
 
 " Yes, all ! " she said simply, shaking her head. 
 " Father dressed me up in red slippers and white 
 stockings, red dress and mantilla, and rigged up a 
 flower-booth for me said it brought custom. And 
 there I had to sit, so tired and sleepy, with all the vile 
 tobacco smoke, and the men black, red and white 
 shouting and singing. Once or twice I fell 
 asleep." 
 
 All at once, as if groping in the dark, her hand had 
 at last found the door, she said abruptly: 
 
 " But one night a Mexican tried to kiss me, and 
 father shot him. He fell across my counter, grabbing
 
 320 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 at me. It was awful ! The next night father was 
 called to the side entrance, and when we found him 
 there was a knife in his back, and he was dead! " 
 
 She rose. 
 
 "What, you're going to leave me there, Dodo?" 
 he said maliciously, forcing a smile. " You're worse 
 than a dime novel ! " 
 
 " That's enough for now. It tires me ! The rest 
 for another time," she answered. " Now you can 
 understand all that happened after, I never had half 
 a chance! " 
 
 The next time she began all over again, saying: 
 
 " My real story is much more terrible. Now, this 
 is the truth ! " 
 
 These inventions usually started from her insist- 
 ence on discussing his wife with Massingale. She 
 had an imperative curiosity, which always shocked 
 his sense of delicacy, to hear him criticize her, to ad- 
 mit her faults, even to drop a hint that there might 
 be other men that, in fact, she lived her own life; 
 which would mean, to Dodo's illogical need of self- 
 justification, that he also had the right. But Massin- 
 gale curtly, peremptorily refused to be drawn into 
 such discussions. Whereupon a coolness arose, and 
 she sought to annoy him by pretended pasts. He 
 knew that she was embroidering, and yet the very 
 facility of it amazed him. The past was one thing: 
 he did not like her references to Sassoon and Blood 
 and what they implied, even though he was sure it was 
 specially fabricated for his confusion. 
 
 So, as soon as peace had been restored, he always
 
 THE SALAMANDER 321 
 
 pressed her for a denial. Whereupon with a laugh, 
 after some coaxing, she would admit the fiction. But 
 the moment the next cause of conflict came, she was 
 always quits by turning on him and declaring: 
 
 "You know all I told you? Well, half of it was 
 true!" 
 
 At the end of the week she received an answer from 
 Mr. Peavey. Contrary to custom, it was not type- 
 written, but performed in his minute and regular 
 hand: 
 
 "Dear Miss Baxter: 
 
 " Your letter has caused me the utmost pain. Please do not, I 
 beg you, judge me by appearances ! I 'have found, to my cost, 
 that I have been greatly misled in the character of a person I 
 trusted. I must see you and explain everything. I am now in 
 the Middle West. I shall be able to run over to New York for 
 five hours on Thursday next, and shall advise you. Believe me, 
 this is the first opportunity I can make. 
 
 "Your devoted friend, 
 
 "O. B. PEAVEY." 
 
 s 
 
 She had found this letter, on entering, in the pile 
 of mail that always accumulated on the hall seat, and 
 had read it standing in the hall. She sought for 
 other letters, and suddenly encountered one that made 
 her halt with surprise. It was in Mr. Peavey's hand- 
 writing, and addressed to Miss Winona Horning. 
 She took it and went up-stairs. Winona was in her 
 room, looking up a little startled at Dore's determined 
 interruption. 
 
 " I have brought you a letter ! " she said very 
 quietly.
 
 322 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 The girl took it, glanced at it, but did not raise her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Read it, why don't you ? " 
 
 Winona Horning opened the letter and read slowly 
 
 once, then a second time. Then, without a word 
 or a raising of her glance, carefully and scrupulously 
 tore it into bits. 
 
 " Have you anything to say to me? " said Dore in 
 a hard voice, triumphant. 
 
 Winona did not raise her eyes. From the first, 
 she had not met Dodo's glance. She hesitated a mo- 
 ment, opening and shutting the case of red morocco, 
 shifting the card, that lay too exposed. Then her 
 shoulder rose defiantly: 
 
 "No, nothing! What's the use of words?" 
 
 Dodo remained a moment, enjoying her defeat, 
 waiting an overt act, ready to blaze forth. But, Wi- 
 nona continuing inert and unresisting, she turned on 
 her heel, with a final scornful glance, and went to her 
 room. 
 
 " There's one thing, at least, she'll never be," she 
 thought to herself, "Mrs. Orlando B. Peavey!" 
 
 Had she known then just what had transpired be- 
 tween the bachelor and the girl who shared the dingy 
 wall with her, she would have been even more amazed 
 
 and perhaps a little inclined to make allowances.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 SNYDER'S attitude during this tumultuous time 
 was exceedingly puzzling to Dodo. She seemed 
 fairly to haunt the rooms, arriving at the most 
 unexpected moments, remaining determinedly camped 
 on her trunk by the window, endlessly silent and im- 
 mersed in reading. Betty came often now in the late 
 morning, or toward six o'clock, hours when Dodo 
 was sure to be at home. Dore had a passionate af- 
 fection for children, and remained for hours on the 
 floor, romping boisterously, or with Betty in her lap, 
 brown curls against her golden ones, exploring end- 
 less enchanted realms. Once or twice in the fairy 
 twilight, when eyelids had gone nodding, overbur- 
 dened with wonder and long listening, and she felt 
 the warm flesh of tiny fingers clinging to her neck, 
 she had waited, cramped and motionless, subjugated 
 in a soft tyranny, glowingly happy and at peace. At 
 other moments, with the little body pressed against 
 her own, encircling arms and childish kisses awoke in 
 her a sudden famine, poignant even as the emotion 
 that flowed through her when Massingale had held 
 her in his arms. 
 
 But Snyder she could not understand. She paid 
 no attention either to Dodo or to the child, keeping 
 always aloof, always with averted eyes. This indif- 
 
 323
 
 324 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 ference revolted Dodo. How could any one care so 
 little for a child so young, so soft and so clinging! In 
 her heart she resented it as something inhuman and 
 incomprehensible, until suddenly, one day, her eyes 
 were opened. 
 
 Their great enemy, the clock, had stolen around to 
 the inexorable hour, and Snyder had announced the 
 moment of farewells by starting from the trunk with 
 a loud closing of her book. 
 
 "Time up!" 
 
 A cry from Betty, and a convulsive closing of arms 
 about the protector. 
 
 "What! already?" said Dodo, with a sigh, coming 
 back unwillingly from a painless world of dreams. 
 
 "Past time!" 
 
 "Just five minutes more!" 
 
 "Dodo!" 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " she said, with a last protesting hug. 
 "What a dreadful mother you have, Betty! How 
 would you like to change mothers, young lady? " 
 
 A giggle of delight and a furious nod of assent. 
 
 " I'll be your mother, and you can come and stay 
 here all the day and all the night, and then there'll 
 be nothing but dolls and fairies and good things to 
 eat all the time ! What do you say ? Will you come 
 and be my little girl forever and ever and ever after? " 
 
 She had begun in a light tone, and had insensibly 
 drifted into a tender note, hushed and with a touch 
 of real longing. All at once she looked up, startled. 
 Snyder had snatched the child from her Snyder as
 
 THE SALAMANDER 325 
 
 she had never seen her before, towering, with tor- 
 tured eyes, stung to the quick. 
 
 " Why, Snyder ! " she began. But the woman 
 turned away quickly, with a murmur, gone before she 
 knew it. 
 
 She was startled at this incomprehensible revela- 
 tion. "What? She's jealous! Snyder jealous! 
 But then, why does she act so indifferently to Betty ? " 
 she thought, amazed. 
 
 Still other things puzzled her about her taciturn 
 room-mate one thing in particular. Whenever 
 Massingale came, Snyder was sure to appear, hostility 
 writ openly on her direct eyes. Dodo almost believed 
 that she had instituted an espionage. 
 
 For Massingale came in often now to her room 
 after the close of the court. She had found, with a 
 new rebellion, that there were bars beyond which she 
 could not penetrate into his life, and much as she 
 scorned the conventionalities, she found that on cer- 
 tain points she could not move him. In public places 
 where they were apt to meet his world he refused to 
 take her unless a third was provided. When she de- 
 claimed he answered abruptly: 
 
 " I am a public man ; you don't understand." 
 
 And he flattered himself that on this side, his pub- 
 lic life, he would always be immovable, no matter what 
 disorder she might exercise over the rest of his ex- 
 istence. This brought her a strange feeling of being 
 outlawed, of standing beyond the pale. She resented 
 it fiercely, not realizing, perhaps, how much she
 
 326 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 cared, turning her anger against society, vowing ven- 
 geance, more and more determined to flout and af- 
 front it. Denied complete liberty to participate in his 
 life, she had resolved to bring him into hers. He 
 agreed readily to meet her friends, seeing in this a 
 way to save appearances. Ida Summers amused him, 
 but it was Estelle Monks who interested him most. 
 
 Like most women of advanced ideas, she held her 
 opinions, not so much as convictions, but as a sort 
 of revealed truth which it was her duty to spread; 
 and she was determined to inflict them on her listen- 
 ers, crushing out all disbelief, restless and unhappy 
 before opposition. To her, marriage was the arch- 
 enemy. Woman suffrage she dismissed lightly. 
 
 "That's of so little account. Of course it will 
 come, sooner or later. That does not interest me. 
 The great question between man and woman is mar- 
 
 riage 
 
 " Perhaps it were better to say the greatest problem 
 that the human race has had to consider," responded 
 Massingale, smiling. " That's why we keep putting 
 off its readjustment. What would you do? Abol- 
 ish it?" 
 
 " Some day, yes ! " said Estelle, without evasion. 
 " I say flatly that two human beings weren't made to 
 live together all the time. It may happen once in a 
 million times, and then do we ever know ? What 
 I hate about marriage is, it is so intellectually debas- 
 ing: one has to lie all the time to make the other 
 happy, and then you end by lying to yourself ! " 
 
 Massingale, awakened from a tolerant amusement
 
 THE SALAMANDER 327 
 
 to a quick curiosity by her boldness, shifted to a more 
 alert position, asking: 
 
 " Just in what way? " 
 
 " The thing I want to do," said Estelle Monks, 
 her face lighting up with enthusiasm, " is to think 
 honestly, not to fool myself! Now what is mar- 
 riage? It is really an institution for the assembling 
 and transmission of property." ("Ah, she's been 
 dipping into socialism," thought Massingale.) 
 " Good ! But, in order to make it convincing, we 
 Americans try to give it a romantic basis ! " 
 
 " And you think that's worse ? " said Dodo, open- 
 ing her eyes. 
 
 " Much ! That's where the lie begins ! We 
 swear not only to live together in a business partner- 
 ship, but to love and adore each other, and to love no 
 one else for the rest of our lives." 
 
 " Why, Estelle ! " exclaimed Dodo, who was pro- 
 foundly shocked in her deepest romanticism. 
 
 " Yes ; and in order to bolster up this absurdity we 
 have to corrupt our whole literature. Young girls 
 and men are brought up with the idea that God, in 
 some mysterious providence, has arranged for us a 
 special affinity that there can be only one person to 
 love in the whole world. Why, some are so fanatic 
 that they are certain that they shall go on together 
 riding a star for a few million years through a few 
 trillion spaces ! Now, that's what I call fooling your 
 intelligence ! " 
 
 '* Yet I know those who have been married forty 
 years and still love ! " said Massingale seriously.
 
 328 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " As comrades or as lovers ? " asked Estelle quickly. 
 " Comradeship yes, that I admit : comradeship be- 
 tween man and woman, each equal, each free, not 
 forced to account to the other, comradeship such as 
 exists between you men absolute loyalty, absolute 
 trust, each working for the same object, working to- 
 gether, an object outside of yourselves. That is life 
 and liberty! And what is the other your mar- 
 riage? Each sacrificing what he doesn't want to sac- 
 rifice, unless, which is worse, one does all the sacrific- 
 ing. What happens now? A woman exists as a 
 free being for twenty twenty-five years ; then a 
 man comes along and says, in so many words: 
 
 " ' If you have lived a virtuous life which I have 
 not I will allow you to renounce all your male 
 friends, or retain those whom I approve of as ac- 
 quaintances, to limit your horizon to my home, to 
 bear my children, to accept my opinions, never to be 
 interested in any other man but me, to keep my house, 
 amuse me when I'm tired, convince me of my superi- 
 ority over all other men, go where I must go, and age 
 before I must age; and in return for these favors I 
 will swear to convince you that I have loved no other 
 woman but you, will blind my eyes to all other women 
 but you, and, if I die first, you will find me waiting 
 patiently by the pearly gates ! ' 
 
 Her listeners acclaimed this sally with shrieks of 
 laughter. 
 
 " May I ask, out of curiosity," said Massingale, 
 for, these conversations being serious, frankness was
 
 THE SALAMANDER 329 
 
 the rule, " how you feel toward my sex your op- 
 pressors ? " 
 
 " Being a healthy woman who enjoys life," said 
 Estelle simply, " I like men very much better than 
 women, who are to me usually nothing but sounding- 
 boards. More, it pleases me exceedingly to attract 
 men, and to be attracted ! " 
 
 "And if you fall in love, temporarily? Or per- 
 haps" 
 
 " Not at all ! I desire very much to find a man big 
 enough, courageous enough, so that I could love him. 
 When I do, I shall live with him openly ! " 
 
 Massingale looked up, rather startled; but Estelle, 
 without embarrassment, in her simple fanatic way, 
 continued : 
 
 " I should hope that it might be for life. If it were 
 not, there should be no tyranny. Only, whatever I 
 do will be done honestly and openly : when such a man 
 comes I shall announce it frankly to my friends and 
 to those who have a right to know ! " 
 
 Massingale was about to interject that she would 
 be a long time finding a man who, on his side, would 
 have the courage to assume such responsibility; but a 
 certain analogy to his own predicament tripped up his 
 impulse and made him change his remark. 
 
 " Others have thought the same, theoretically," he 
 said carefully. " Few have dared to put it into prac- 
 tise." 
 
 " Which is immoral, that or nine-tenths of the 
 marriages to-day? Am I selling myself, as many a
 
 330 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 woman in your world does who marries for ambition 
 and retreats under the mockery of a legal phrase? 
 And when love has changed into indifference or hate, 
 is there anything more horrible, more brutalizing, 
 than marriage, and is such a woman anything but a 
 paid mistress? I know women who tell me their 
 stories, who look at marriage as a sort of social um- 
 brella. And they are right! Society demands only 
 appearances; it never cares what goes on under the 
 umbrella! That's why I want to live honestly and 
 think honestly, and that's why I intend to have the 
 courage to live as a free and self-respecting, intelli- 
 gent human being ! " 
 
 These extraordinary sentiments were pronounced 
 with the fire of the revolutionary; nor was all that she 
 had earnestly proclaimed without its effect on him. 
 He did not seek to amuse himself, but, impressed as 
 if seeking to perceive the extent of what might be 
 coming, he asked: 
 
 " One question. You are a good reporter. You 
 go everywhere, and women talk to you frankly. How 
 many share your ideas ? " 
 
 "As ideas many!" said Estelle. "Unfortu- 
 nately, women are still what history has forced them 
 to be ; their courage is in deceiving ! " 
 
 "I know it is so!" said Massingale, aroused in a 
 way that Dodo had never seen him a perception 
 which was allied with a little jealousy that Estelle 
 should thus appeal to him. " It is inevitable, too. 
 Women who are in revolt to-day see in marriage the 
 instrument of all their oppressions. It is natural that
 
 THE SALAMANDER 331 
 
 women are resisting the idea of marriage. But they 
 are doing so blindly. They do not distinguish be- 
 tween marriage as an ideal, and the defective concep- 
 tion of marriage: just as people who violently attack 
 the shortcomings of the church confuse a human in- 
 strument with a divine religion. I can answer you at 
 once. Are you perfect? Am I perfect? Why, 
 then, should marriage, which is the union of imperfect 
 beings, be a perfect thing?" 
 
 " But such a union as I believe in would be a true 
 marriage ! " said Estelle Monks, restless under the 
 doubts his words had brought to her philosophy. 
 " You'll answer, * Marry and divorce.' But that's all 
 quibbling ; my way is more honest ! " 
 
 He did not continue the conversation, wondering 
 to what extent Dodo had been listening to such an 
 advanced apostle ; but he said : 
 
 " Miss Monks, you're very honest, and I know you 
 believe all you say; but don't be offended if I tell 
 you this ! opinions change with experience, and you 
 have not yet had that experience with actual condi- 
 tions that is necessary ! " 
 
 Estelle Monks, piqued at this answer which pre- 
 cluded argument, rose stiffly and went out. 
 
 " Why did you say that ? " asked Dodo reproach- 
 fully, yet not displeased to be left alone in the tete-a- 
 tete which he usually avoided. 
 
 He was in a serious mood, and because he wished 
 to be honest in his own mind, he answered warily: 
 
 " She is too fine a type. I'd hate to see her make a 
 mistake! "
 
 332 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 He was thinking how much of what Estelle Monks 
 had said applied to his own marriage. What a mock- 
 ery it was, and what right had two human beings who 
 were driven apart by every personal antipathy phys- 
 ical, mental and spiritual to go on, bound by a con- 
 vention, preventing each other from seeking happiness 
 elsewhere? And, remembering her attack on mar- 
 riage as the slavery of woman, he thought bitterly 
 that she had expressed only half the truth. He was, 
 indeed, neither married nor a free man, checked in 
 every impulse, denied at every turn. 
 
 " What are you frowning about ? " said Dodo. 
 
 He answered hastily in that language which, as has 
 been said, was given us to conceal our thoughts : 
 
 " I was wondering how much she had affected 
 you!" 
 
 " Not the least ! " said Dodo, adding impulsively : 
 " And yet, that is just what I feel ! " 
 
 " You, Dodo ? " he said anxiously. 
 
 She went to him with a sudden enthusiasm, taking 
 his hands, perhaps subconsciously divining the bitter 
 personal reflection that had been going on in his mind, 
 feeling the moment to be propitious. 
 
 " Ah, let me tell you now what I want for us ! " she 
 began ardently. 
 
 " The great dream, Dodo ? " he said, smiling. 
 
 " Yes, a dream, but a dream that will come true ! " 
 She hesitated, and standing before him, her eyes 
 lighted up by the penetration of a woman, a glance 
 that left him confused, she said directly: "You 
 think you understand me? You don't; but I under-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 333 
 
 stand you! You are afraid of me! You love me, 
 but you try not to, because you are afraid of me ! " 
 
 " How ? " he asked lamely. 
 
 " Because you think that I want to interfere in your 
 life. Oh, yes, you do! I remember the look in your 
 face when I was romancing about Sassoon, making 
 him divorce you remember, when you asked if that 
 was what I intended to do with you ? " 
 
 " I was joking! " 
 
 " Not entirely ! There's been a good deal of such 
 thoughts back of your eyes. You are afraid I'll take 
 it into my little head to be Mrs. Massingale. Don't 
 deny it, Your Honor ; I know ! That's where you are 
 totally wrong. I hate marriage; I could not stand it 
 a month ! " she said curtly. And she continued 
 dramatically, stretching out her hand : " I swear to 
 you now that, whatever happens, I will never be your 
 wife ! I've told you I would take nothing from you ; 
 I mean it ! " 
 
 He watched her, erect and impassioned, weakly 
 conscious of the dominion she had established over 
 every craving and every impulse. 
 
 "Ah, no, no!" she exclaimed indignantly. "It's 
 nothing so commonplace I want! There's only one 
 love possible to me a great transcending passion, 
 which would be so far above all earthly things that a 
 year a month would compensate for a whole life 
 of loneliness! Don't you see, it's love, an immense 
 love, such as only comes once in a million times, that 
 I'm seeking? " 
 
 "How?"
 
 334 THE SAEAMANDER 
 
 Suddenly her mood leaped into playfulness, her 
 eyes sparkled with delight, and her clasped hands pil- 
 lowed themselves against her cheek, as if imprisoning 
 in a caress a beautiful and precious thought. 
 
 " First, let's run away away from all this ugli- 
 ness, from all these eyes, from all this hateful, nois^. 
 black-and-brown city! Run away! Oh, that's such 
 a wonderful idea in itself, to go flying through the 
 night, just you and I, leaving it all behind, to a place 
 I dream of night and day to some wonderful is- 
 land, far off in the Pacific, where we can be alone, live 
 for ourselves ! " 
 
 He did not check her, though he was wondering 
 from what book she had found such ideas, curious to 
 learn to what extent she had visualized her romance. 
 
 " And how long would you keep the island, 
 Dodo?" 
 
 "Not long!" she said quietly. "Perhaps a year, 
 perhaps only a season. That must be agreed; and 
 when the dream is over we would come back ! " 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 " And then we would separate and never see each 
 other again ! " 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " So that it could never become commonplace or 
 stale so that it could live in our lives as the one 
 great memory, with no regrets." 
 
 She stopped, looked at him tensely, and went on: 
 
 " You would take up your life again, and I would 
 bury myself in my career, and you would watch me, 
 little by little, become a great name ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 335 
 
 " And never see each other " 
 
 " Perhaps when we are quite old," she said sud- 
 denly. "You won't believe me! I would do it!" 
 She clasped her hands tumultuously over her heart. 
 " Oh, how easily I would do it ! Ah, to have such a 
 romance anything might come ! " 
 
 "What book have you been reading?" he asked 
 quietly yet feeling a little sad that he could not fol- 
 low where her lawless imagination ran. 
 
 She turned away hotly, clenching her fists, crying: 
 
 "Ah, you will never let go of yourself! You are 
 afraid afraid of everything!" 
 
 He followed her, laying a hand on her shoulder as 
 she stood by the window. 
 
 " Keep your island in southern seas ! " he said, with 
 such emotion in his voice that she wheeled about. 
 " Believe in it all you want, extraordinary child, even if 
 it ends by my paying all the penalty. Go on with your 
 day-dreaming." 
 
 His glance lay in hers, his arms were longing to 
 take her into them, when Snyder entered, with a quick 
 knock that gave them only time to spring apart. At 
 this moment Dodo could have driven her out, fiercely 
 rebelling against this constant espionage. What right 
 had Snyder or any one to interfere with her liberty, 
 or to say whom she should see? She resolved hotly 
 to have an explanation when she returned. Now it 
 was necessary to master her emotion. 
 
 " A moment a moment to change my dress ; 
 ready in ten minutes! " 
 
 She ran quickly to trunk and bureau, gathering up
 
 336 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 her articles of dress; disappearing behind a screen in 
 the corner. Massingale, after a calculating glance at 
 the figure of Snyder, rigid in the window, sat down, 
 drawing a magazine to him. He no longer felt the 
 unease he had experienced at the woman's first inter- 
 ruption. It seemed so natural to be there, in the 
 musty high room, littered with trunks, with its patches 
 of carpet and incongruous wall-paper. 
 
 In the closet, behind a discreetly closed door, Dodo 
 was laughing at her narrow quarters. Outside, 
 through the windows, the marshaled city was setting 
 its lights for Christmas Eve thousands on thou- 
 sands of human beings disciplined under the old order 
 of what is called right and wrong, the millions who 
 never really entered his life and for whose approval 
 his every word and action must be calculated. 
 
 "Snyder, come and button me!" called Dodo, 
 emerging from the closet behind the screen. 
 
 She felt nothing unusual in this hidden change of 
 dress, but to him the touch of intimacy aroused more 
 than his curiosity. 
 
 When they descended to the closed car, gaily brush- 
 ing the snowflakes from each other, a little moved by 
 all that had passed, feeling, too, the obliterating unre- 
 alities of dark streets and lights glistening amid the 
 obscurity, he said: 
 
 " Dodo, I wish it could be ! " 
 
 " It can, it can ! " she answered impulsively, excited 
 at his approach to consent. 
 
 " The world's too big for us ! " 
 
 " Some men would have the courage ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 337 
 
 " The trouble is, I am born under a curse," he said 
 moodily. " I'm limited a gentleman : that's the 
 best and the worst of me ! " 
 
 " A gentleman ! " she repeated scornfully. " Yes, 
 that's the whole of it! That's why you're afraid of 
 everything why you'll never, never dare!" 
 
 "That's true, Dodo!" 
 
 " And what is a gentleman ? " she asked angrily. 
 
 He looked beyond her at the lighted windows of his 
 club, arrogantly set in judgment over the multitude 
 on the avenue, and answered, in mockery : 
 
 " A gentleman, Dodo, is one who is a gentleman 
 because he associates with those who are gentlemen 
 because they associate with him ! " 
 
 She did not laugh at this; there was more below it 
 than the sarcasm. Presently she drew his hand into 
 hers. 
 
 " How much you need me, Your Honor! " she said 
 softly. "What is the rest worth? Let me guide 
 you!" 
 
 He did not reply. In fact, he knew too well that 
 he had surrendered already, and in that moment, he 
 said to himself that he would take his courage in his 
 hands 'that now, before the week had ended, he 
 would go to his wife and claim from her his liberty, 
 whatever her terms. 
 
 Dore returned early, after a dinner at the Hickory 
 Log, riotous with the Christmas cheer. Massingale 
 had an engagement; she wished to be in her room, 
 childlike, eager for the excitement of arriving pres- 
 ents. Besides, she had planned a tree for Betty, and
 
 338 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 with Ida's aid, she set delightedly to the task of ar- 
 ranging candles, twining tinsel, tying up presents in 
 neat tissue-paper with enticing bows of red ribbon. 
 She had depleted her slender treasury in presents for 
 Betty, having bought almost a dozen, inscribing each 
 from some imaginary fairy prince or goblin whom 
 they had met in their enchanted wanderings. 
 
 By ten o'clock the tree was completed, the pile of 
 her own presents had stopped at respectable propor- 
 tions, and the wanderlust having come, Dodo not 
 without a little feeling of treachery to Massingale 
 allowed herself to be persuaded, and departed for a 
 " spree." When they returned in Peavey's automo- 
 bile, which Dodo had commandeered, there was al- 
 ready a slight covering of snow, and at the windows 
 the slipping wheels flung flurries of white flakes. 
 
 "I can't bear an old masher a fossil that's fall- 
 ing to pieces ! " said Ida gaily, returning over the 
 events of the evening. " Did you see that old Caxton, 
 that was buzzing around me all evening? " 
 
 Dodo laughed. 
 
 "He started after me, but I shook him!" 
 
 " Heavens, Do, how do you manage ? I never 
 can ! " 
 
 " I gave him an awful shock," explained Dodo, con- 
 tinuing to laugh. " He'd been looking at me with 
 big wolf eyes, licking his chops and telling me he'd 
 leave his happy home for me you know the stuff. 
 He had me cornered at the upper table, and just as I 
 started to slip away he caught my arm.
 
 u 
 
 JS
 
 THE SALAMANDER 339 
 
 " ' And what's your fairy name, you darling ? ' says 
 he. 
 
 " And I answered : 
 
 "'Gussie!' 
 
 " You should have seen the face he made ! He 
 dropped me like a hot potato ! " 
 
 Then she was silent, deliciously cradled in her own 
 thoughts, convincing herself that what yesterday had 
 seemed but a faint dream was now a possibility, vis- 
 ualizing, in dormant balmy seas, an island all white 
 and green, a fairy island as enchanted as the king- 
 doms which each day she constructed for Betty's won- 
 dering eyes. To be Mrs. Massingale, to enter into 
 all the irksome routine of formal society no, that 
 had no appeal ! A year or a season in a world of her 
 own, a great romance, a love that would sweep them 
 up like the magnificently reckless storms of passion 
 which came to her over the inspired motives of 
 Tristan and Isolde that, and then a life of work 
 and accomplishment, a career. 
 
 All at once, as the skidding automobile slowed and 
 sloughed about a corner, a group under a lamp-post, 
 black and silhouetted against the snow, sprang across 
 the fragile fabric of her dreams out of the horrid world 
 of reality a figure that scattered all selfish thoughts 
 and overwhelmed her with the power of a great re- 
 morse. She leaned forward precipitately, beating on 
 the window for Brennon to stop, and even in the mo- 
 ment of her disorder, true to the Salamander instinct, 
 she explained hastily :
 
 340 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " A cousin oh, dear ! he's been on a spree for 
 months; the family's distracted. Stop! Wait I 
 must get hold of him. No, no ; let me out ! " 
 
 And to Ida's amazement, opening the door, heedless 
 of the slush on her delicate feet, of the bitter night, of 
 what any one would think, obeying only an irresist- 
 ible cry from her soul, Dodo had sprung out and run 
 to the sidewalk, where the ghost of Lindaberry, come 
 up from the abyss, was standing embattled, torn and 
 disheveled, magnificently crazed, and at his feet a 
 policeman, knocked out.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 DORfi went to Lindaberry, without a thought of 
 fear, crying his name : 
 
 "Garry, it's I Dodo!" 
 
 He turned, striving to recognize her through the 
 blurred phantasmagoria of the week. 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 He drew his hand across his face, bending down a 
 little, staring at her. At the moment she despaired of 
 his recognizing her, suddenly he stiffened up, made an 
 attempt to readjust his clothes, and doffed his hat. 
 She gave a cry of horror: across his forehead was a 
 seam of blood. 
 
 "You're hurt!" 
 
 " 'S nothing," he said, drawing a long breath, and 
 his jaw growing rigid with the attempt to recover his 
 control. He relaxed his grip on the collar of the inert 
 policeman, who flattened out against the trampled 
 snow. " This little misunshtanding gen'lman 
 spoke rather rude. Sorry little mussed. 'Scuse 
 me." 
 
 The fear that others might arrive and find him thus, 
 the dread of an arrest a trial and publicity gave 
 her a new will ; for, strangely enough, even before his 
 wild demeanor she had no fear. 
 
 " I've come, as I promised," she said quickly. 
 " I'm going to take you home. Come, Garry ! " 
 
 34i
 
 342 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 "Any one else? " he asked, shrinking back. 
 
 " My maid," she said quickly. 
 
 He bowed and gave her his arm to the automobile. 
 At the door he placed her inside, saying, with careful 
 courtesy : 
 
 " Sit outside. Thank you. Not fit. All right ! " 
 
 Aware of his condition, by some tremendous exer- 
 tion of his will, he had flung back the lethargy that 
 held his senses, and recovered his dignity. Dodo, in 
 the car, was thinking rapidly. The first glance at his 
 eyes and quivering lips had told her how serious was 
 the crisis. Everything else disappeared before this in- 
 sistent need of her romance, intrigues, calculation, 
 or care of what others might think. 
 
 " Ida, it's not true what I said," she said rapidly. 
 " He's not my cousin, but some one whom I would 
 give my life to save. I'm taking him to his house. 
 You must come in with me until we can get a doc- 
 tor. I can't leave him. If you get a chance, tell 
 Brennon it's my brother ; he mustn't know." 
 
 She had anticipated a struggle to get Lindaberry to 
 his rooms ; but, to her surprise, he walked from the car 
 without wavering, and up the flight of stairs to his 
 apartment. The two girls, leaving Brennon below 
 with orders to wait, followed quickly. In a few mo- 
 ments his valet, hastily awakened, had let them in. He 
 was a young fellow, strong and intelligent, and he 
 gave a cry of relief at the sight of the master thus re- 
 turned. 
 
 "Dodo!"
 
 THE SALAMANDER 343 
 
 "Here I am!" she said quickly, touching Linda- 
 berry's arm. 
 
 " Oh ! " He looked at her, and then, as if sud- 
 denly recollecting himself, imbued with the need of 
 taking command, said : " Pretty bad ; can't tell what 
 happened. Doctor Lampson quick ! " 
 
 She turned calmly to the valet, feeling a deep de- 
 light in her control of the situation. 
 
 " You know Doctor Lampson ? Good ! My car's 
 down-stairs. Go and bring him immediately ! " 
 
 She returned to Lindaberry. 
 
 " Garry, lie on the couch ! You've got a scratch ; 
 I want to bind it up. Ida, bring me a couple of towels, 
 sponge, water." 
 
 He obeyed her, but his glance started nervously at 
 the sight of Ida Summers. 
 
 "Who's that?" 
 
 She comprehended his humiliation that another 
 should see him thus, and replied again, with a warning 
 look at Ida, who came in : 
 
 " My maid, Garry ; that's all ! " 
 
 " Tell her wait outside." 
 
 "Very well!" 
 
 Ida, at a nod, went into the library, not without 
 wonder at the quiet authority of voice and action in her 
 butterfly friend. 
 
 She made him stretch out on the sofa, and with 
 sponge and towel quickly bathed and bound up the 
 gash across his temple. The application of cold water 
 seemed to calm him. He relaxed and closed his eyes
 
 344 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 as she remained at his side, applying the healing 1 
 sponge. She studied the racked body and disordered 
 head with a tightening of her heart. The weak and 
 quivering lips, the sunken cheeks, the dark circles un- 
 der the punished eyes, everything cried out to her : 
 
 " You could have prevented this ! " 
 
 She accused herself with a thousand reproaches in 
 the presence of this wreck she had made, and before 
 his abject weakness her sense of possession awoke. 
 He was hers, as Betty was hers by right of the un- 
 answered famine in her maternal heart. Come what 
 might, she would not leave him until she had seen him 
 back into strength and courage again. She called him 
 but he had gone off into an unseeing delirium, wander- 
 ing through what black and sunken ways ! She drew 
 off his shoes, disengaged the stained tie and collar, and 
 by patient effort slipped the torn coat from him, cover- 
 ing him with a clean dressing-gown. 
 
 Once or twice he sought to start up, but each time, 
 at her hand across his forehead and her clear voice in 
 his ear, he relaxed. This docile obedience, this will- 
 ing trust in her little strength, one word of hers still- 
 ing the storm in his brain and bringing peace instead 
 of fury, moved her almost to tears. She closed her 
 eyes, her hand over his throbbing lids, and gave her- 
 self up to an impulsive prayer another Dodo, back 
 again in the quiet soul reaches of that unfathomable 
 night when, reckless and defiant, ready to renounce the 
 faith of a Salamander, she had suddenly found her- 
 self gliding into unforeseen deeps, miraculously in- 
 spired.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 45' 
 
 After a long half -hour Doctor Lampson came a 
 powerful man of quick eye, hearty laugh and abound- 
 ing vitality. 
 
 " Hello, Garry ! Been wrestling with sky- 
 scrapers ? " he cried with a rumbling laugh, sitting 
 down on the sofa. " Trying to drink up the Hudson 
 River, eh?" 
 
 " Hello, Alex ! " said Garry gratefully. He shook 
 his head despondently. " Bad start ! " 
 
 " Rats, man ! Bad start ? What are you talking 
 about? Remember the first half of that Princeton 
 game, eleven to nothing? That was a bad start, 
 wasn't it? Didn't prevent you going through like a 
 runaway engine for a couple of touchdowns, did it? 
 Well, then ! Don't talk to me ! I've seen you start ! " 
 
 " Good old Alex ! " said Lindaberry, with a smile. 
 "Oh, I'm in the fight!" 
 
 " Yes ; you look as if you'd been fighting, all right ! " 
 said Lampson with a roar. " Now, just you shut up! 
 What you want, man, is sleep! We'll fix you up in a 
 jiffy!" 
 
 " Stay ; get me quiet, will you, Alex ? " 
 
 " Don't you tell me what to do ! " said Doctor Lamp- 
 son, with assumed fierceness. " Here, Rogers, get 
 him undressed and into bed. Back in a moment ! " 
 
 He nodded to Dore, and they passed into the next 
 room. 
 
 " Pretty close to D.T's. I'll quiet him down, but 
 we've got to get a trained nurse in here, Christmas Eve 
 bad time ! " He began to whistle. 
 
 " But I'm here! " Dore said eagerly.
 
 346 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " You ? My dear child, he may go quietly, and then 
 he may take to chewing up chairs and walking on the 
 ceiling. No, no! Who the devil could I get at this 
 hour? " he said, studying Dore, at a loss where to place 
 her. 
 
 A sudden thought came to her. 
 
 " There are two trained nurses where I live, friends 
 of mine, just a few blocks away, Doctor. One is free 
 I know she'd come for me ! " 
 
 "What's her name?" 
 
 " Stuart Clarice Stuart." 
 
 " I know her. Good ! " he said, breaking in. " All 
 right! That'll do!" 
 
 Ida, with a note from Dodo, went off in the automo- 
 bile, leaving them alone. 
 
 " You'd better go too, young lady," he said ab- 
 ruptly. 
 
 " I am going to stay ! " she said, up in arms at once. 
 
 " This is no place for you ! " 
 
 " If I were a trained nurse," she said obstinately, 
 " it would be all right ! Well, I'm some one who has a 
 great deal more interest in saving him than any nurse, 
 and I am going to stay!" She turned impulsively. 
 " Doctor Lampson, Mr. Lindaberry started to get hold 
 of himself for me. It's my fault, I didn't do what I 
 ought to; now I'm going to think of nothing else! 
 Don't you understand, this is my fault? I just must 
 help!"' 
 
 "Well, of course, that's different!" he said, still 
 undecided. 
 
 When they entered the bedroom, they found Linda-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 347 
 
 berry angry and excited, struggling to rise, against 
 the efforts of Rogers to keep him in bed. Dore went 
 to him without a thought of fear, laid her hand on his 
 wrist, and said quickly : 
 
 " Garry, be quiet ! " 
 
 He relaxed immediately at the one voice that pene- 
 trated the roaring in his brain. She turned with a 
 smile toward Lampson, who was pulling his short 
 beard. 
 
 " You see? He will do as I tell him! " 
 
 And there was something in her defiant attitude, the 
 ardor of a woman fiercely defending her own, which 
 convinced him that she had the right to stay. 
 
 At eight o'clock the next morning she returned to 
 her room, a cloak which Clarice Stuart had brought 
 thrown over her garments of the reveling night. Yet, 
 keenly buoyed up by the sense of ministering', she had 
 no sense of fatigue. She had been at Lindaberry's 
 bedside constantly, combating the delirium that seized 
 upon him in abrupt gusts of fury. And in these mo- 
 ments of frantic wanderings, as he tossed helplessly 
 before the stalking phantoms that rose out of the grim 
 yesterday, when real and unreal went rocking through 
 his tortured brain, no other hand but hers could control 
 him. He seemed to know the moment she slipped 
 noiselessly away, turning convulsively, stretching out 
 his arm, querulously summoning her back. She 
 obeyed, untired, willing, rapturously content. 
 
 Rogers, the valet, in the next room ; Clarice Stuart, 
 in her blue and white nurse's dress, silently in a cor- 
 ner; Dore, in pink and white evening gown, buckled
 
 348 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 satin slippers, with the odor of tired flowers still at her 
 breast, sat endlessly, her eyes on the restless tormented 
 head and the twitching lips that were never still, listen- 
 ing to incoherent phrases that still had intelligence for 
 her. 
 
 What an inferno of desperation and defeat rose 
 shapelessly about her! Through what dark corners 
 of despair had he blundered in these last days ! Some- 
 times, across the horror and the anguish of his mutter- 
 ings, she heard her name called in a voice that rent her 
 heart. But she thought no more of herself, only of 
 the quiet that she must enforce on him; and quietly, 
 smiling in the dark, she repeated in a gentle voice: 
 
 " I am here, Garry Dodo ; I am taking care of 
 you ! Try to sleep ! No I won't leave you ! " 
 
 The hours rang from some unseen clock, and in the 
 end the paling dawn filtered across the white roofs 
 of Christmas morning. Clarice Stuart, noiseless as a 
 shadow, rose and extinguished the useless candle. 
 Some one touched her on the shoulder. It was Doctor 
 Lampson, his finger on his lips. She glanced at the 
 bed, slowly disengaging her hand. Lindaberry had 
 fallen at last into a profound sleep, his hand clutching 
 the bedspread, his head still impulsively turned to- 
 ward her. 
 
 Once or twice she had wondered if she had been 
 wise in introducing into this intimacy Clarice Stuart, 
 whose frivolous side only was known to her. But, as 
 soon as she had come, Dore knew she had made no 
 mistake. Clarice Stuart, once in uniform, was an-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 349 
 
 other being, serious, matter-of-fact, concentrated, with 
 a strength that surprised her. 
 
 " Cut out apologies, Dodo ! " she had said, with 
 brusk sincerity. " The presents are all in the props 
 can wait. What's a turkey between friends? This 
 is the real part of life. You need me! That's 
 enough, isn't it ? " 
 
 She had asked no questions, and for that Dore was 
 grateful. 
 
 When she reached her room, she calmed her nerves 
 with a hot bath and went to sleep at once, without a 
 thought of the heaped-up presents waiting to be 
 opened, or the mail that had accumulated. She had 
 only one idea : to snatch some rest, and to be back 
 on the field of battle. Snyder had been waiting, rest- 
 less and apprehensive, looking innumerable questions 
 at such an inexplicable return. 
 
 " Don't worry, Snyder ! " she had said, with a tired 
 laugh. " Nothing terrible's happened. Tell you 
 later must get sleep. Wake me at ten ! " 
 
 But it was almost eleven when, impelled by some un- 
 easy instinct, she awoke precipitately, furious at Sny- 
 der, who, on her part, retreated, dumb and obstinate. 
 In the rapid ten minutes in which she dressed, Dore, 
 remembering with fresh irritation the surveillance 
 which had been instituted over her actions, burst out : 
 
 " Snyder, what's got into you? I'm beginning to 
 get annoyed yes, exceedingly so ! I don't like your 
 manner toward me. I sometimes think you don't ap- 
 prove of me! What is it? Do you think I am not
 
 350 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 capable of taking care of myself? Or do you wish 
 to select my friends for me? Which is it? Let me 
 understand ! " 
 
 " Well, yes ! I don't want to see you getting in 
 trouble ! " answered Snyder abruptly. 
 
 "Ah, that's it!" said Dodo indignantly. "I 
 couldn't believe it. Now I know ! So that's why you 
 come sneaking in every time I have a man calling 
 here?" 
 
 " Not every man! " said Snyder, reddening. " One 
 man!" 
 
 " Judge Massingale ? Say it ! " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " You know very well ! " 
 
 "I don't!" 
 
 " He means no good ! " said Snyder obstinately. 
 " Besides, he hasn't the right. And you care ! " 
 
 " The idea! " said Dore, flushing hotly under an ac- 
 cusation which she knew had point. " I suppose you 
 think I've been out with him? That that's the sort 
 of girl I am? Thank you for your confidence ! And 
 may I ask why you take it on yourself to regulate my 
 conduct ? Have I ever asked you any questions ? Do 
 I know anything about you?" She stopped abruptly 
 at the pain that flashed into Snyder's face, and, being 
 sensitive to such things, added quickly : " You've 
 hurt me very much, Snyder, by your attitude very 
 much ! I didn't expect it of you ! " 
 
 " I'll tell you when you want. Yes ; guess I have 
 been sailing under false colors!" said Snyder, in a
 
 THE SALAMANDER 351 
 
 blundering voice. " No, you ain't asked questions. 
 But it isn't 'cause I want to judge you, honey! . . . 
 Lord, why should I judge ? I'd stick to you, no mat- 
 ter what you were. That's not it only " 
 
 "Only what?" 
 
 " Only, pet, you don't know what's facts ! " said 
 Snyder, looking at her directly, " facts and conse- 
 quences ! " 
 
 " I've got a very wise head ! " said Dodo, laughing 
 to dismiss a subject she did not wish to discuss. 
 " Don't you worry about me, Snyder ! I've fooled 
 many a man who thought he was clever. I won't 
 make mistakes! Give me the mail! I'm off! Back 
 at four for Betty and the tree. Be prompt ! " She 
 started out, then came back and caught Snyder play- 
 fully by the chin : " Why, you old dragon, don't you 
 know I'm just amusing myself ? " 
 
 But Snyder, always obstinate and direct, answered: 
 
 " Dodo, I tell you, you're serious ! " 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense ! " said Dore, departing with 
 an exaggerated laugh. 
 
 Lindaberry was still sunk in long-needed slumber 
 when she returned. Clarice, tiptoeing out, informed 
 her that the worst had been avoided : he had a consti- 
 tution and a will that was incredible; that alone had 
 saved him from an attack of cerebral fever. What he 
 suffered from most was insomnia and lack of rest ; then, 
 of course, there was the craving that had grown 
 into the body, the hot thirst for alcohol. He would 
 have to be watched every moment for days. There 
 was the danger. She lay down on the sofa in the
 
 352 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 salon, asleep almost instantly, while Dodo, stealing 
 back to the bedroom, encamped in a distant armchair 
 by a fugitive gray slit of light, began to sort her 
 Christmas mail. 
 
 There were a score of letters in all, gay with green 
 and red stamps: some from already forgotten bea,us, 
 others from girl friends; a long annual letter from 
 her aunt and uncle, distilling the heavy quiet and 
 enforced lethargy of the small town; a note from. 
 Peavey; sentimental scrawls from the various props; 
 a line in Sassoon's brief peremptory style, saying 
 that he would call that afternoon an announce- 
 ment suggestive of presents to appear; a missive from 
 Massingale, which she reserved for the last; several 
 envelopes in unfamiliar hands which puzzled her in 
 fact, odds and ends of all the curious threads that had 
 woven into her life. She arranged them in order, the 
 old memories first to be read and forgot the quicker, 
 the outer cohorts of admirers, the initiated, and for 
 the last Massingale and a letter or two that she had not 
 peeped into, in deference to her love of the mysterious. 
 
 She began with the news from home, her body stif- 
 fening as her mind set itself to resistance. It was ten 
 pages long, closely and painfully written out in the 
 familiar faded and trembling hand: news of the 
 weather and of the year's building, a record of ill- 
 nesses and deaths, who had married and who had 
 moved the tabulated inconsequentialities of village 
 life; and through all the complaining note of solitude 
 and longing which always left her uneasy before the 
 querulous pleading note of duty. She finished rapidly,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 353 
 
 and drew a long breath. The next was from her old; 
 admirer, the grocer's clerk, now full partner, faith- 
 fully announcing his marriage. She stopped a mo- 
 ment at the name of the woman. 
 
 " Bedelia Bedelia Stone ? Funny I can't remem- 
 ber. Oh, of course! Delia the girl with red hair 
 and freckles who hated me so. Curious, I'd almost 
 forgot!" 
 
 She went on to the next, shaking off the heaviness 
 of spirit which these returning memories always laid 
 across her ascending imagination. Then came Christ- 
 mas remembrances from other outstripped chance de- 
 votees one from a young dramatic critic in Buffalo 
 whom she had enlisted in that short stop. She smiled 
 at this fidelity, rather flattered. Peavey's letter, an- 
 nouncing a delay in his return, and the forwarding of 
 a present, was signed, " Your devoted and faithful 
 friend." This departure from formality left her in a 
 reverie; she foresaw complications ahead, a new dif- 
 ficulty in the intimacy of the coming explanation which 
 would require all her tact to prevent an open declara- 
 tion. 
 
 Before beginning Massingale's letter she scanned 
 anxiously the two unopened envelopes. What she 
 had feared from the first nervous glance was a letter 
 from Josh Nebbins. He had written her on her last 
 birthday, and on the Christmas before sentimental 
 confident notes, the faith of a man who believes in the 
 future. Each time she had determined definitely to 
 announce the breaking of the engagement, to her 
 long since a thing of ridicule, but she had delayed,
 
 354 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 mainly from cowardice, for fear that that persistent, 
 terrible young hustler would come straight to New 
 York. Lately she feared him at every turn, obsessed 
 more and more in her dreams by his pursuing shadow. 
 To her relief, no word had come from him. Per- 
 haps he too had forgot, after all! She raised her- 
 self and glanced at the bed, where Lindaberry was 
 still moving restlessly, but asleep. Then she opened 
 Massingale's letter: 
 
 "My Lady-of-Dreams : 
 
 " Merry Christmas, and everything you can desire, even to im- 
 passible islands in southern seas! The bracelet I send you car- 
 ries a talisman of good luck to keep you from an ugly world ! 
 I'll come for you at twelve, to tell your especial ear all the things 
 that are too fragile to put on crude paper, and if the snow holds, 
 as seems probable, we'll get a sleigh and go jingling off into 
 the new world, and I'll promise solemnly to believe everything 
 you wish me to believe, never once to say acting, to be entirely 
 docile and joyfully credulous, for a whole twenty-four hours. 
 
 " His HONOR." 
 
 She glanced guiltily at the clock, amazed how com- 
 pletely Massingale had gone out of her thoughts. It 
 was almost noon. She arose hastily to telephone. 
 But at this moment the man in the bed moved and 
 opened his eyes, which remained profoundly set on her 
 halted figure, so luminous and young in the glowing 
 golden Russian blouse in which she had first appeared 
 to him. She paused, poised lightly on her toes, as he 
 stared out at her incredulously, striving to collect his 
 thoughts. 
 
 "Dodo?" he said in a whisper, frowning before 
 him.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 355 
 
 She came to his bedside, all else forgot, smiling, 
 radiant. 
 
 "Here I am!" 
 
 Suddenly some confused streak of memory seemed 
 to cross his brain, and immediately he said, weakness in 
 his voice: 
 
 " You you ought not to be here ! " 
 
 " I am not alone," she said, sitting down ; " there is 
 a trained nurse in the other room." 
 
 " I remember last night your coming suddenly. 
 But" 
 
 " Hush, don't try to remember ! " she said quietly. 
 " Rest ; sleep all you can ! " 
 
 He continued looking at her with great uncompre- 
 hending eyes. 
 
 " What day is it ? " he asked slowly. 
 
 " Christmas." 
 
 " Good God ! " He turned his face away, horror- 
 stricken and ashamed ; but she, struck by the movement 
 and the shudder that passed through his body, called 
 to him gently: 
 
 " Garry, I don't blame you. Look at me ! No, 
 don't turn away, please." 
 
 She stretched out her hand, and slipping it under 
 his head, brought it back to her; when he lifted his 
 eyes, hers were smiling through her tears, compassion- 
 ate and tender. 
 
 " I went to pieces," he said slowly. 
 
 " Never mind ! Now I know how much you need 
 me what I can mean ! " 
 
 " I remember nothing. Good God ! whert have I
 
 356 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 been ? " he said bitterly, and in his eyes was the black 
 fog of impenetrable days and nights. 
 
 " It was my fault, too; I made the mistake, Garry! " 
 she said hastily. " All that is over, though. Now 
 we'll make the fight together ! " 
 
 He watched her mutely, his eyes seeming to widen 
 and deepen with the intensity of his gaze. 
 
 "Don't go away just now to-day. . . ." 
 
 "I won't!" 
 
 " And wear " He raised his hand and ran it 
 caressingly over the golden velvet. " It's your color ! " 
 
 She nodded, smiling down on him, her soothing 
 fingers running lightly over his hot forehead. 
 
 " Lord ! Such a defeat ! " he said presently, shaking 
 his head. 
 
 "Hush!" 
 
 " What can you think of me ? " 
 
 She looked down at his great frame, at the bared 
 muscles of the arm that lay at her side, the corded 
 brown neck, rough cut of chin, the powerful features, 
 now so weak and so appealing. The despondency she 
 saw in that great strength and stricken energy brought 
 her all the closer to him, with an impulse to join all her 
 strength to his, to take away the sting and the morti- 
 fication, to raise him with confidence and hope. 
 
 The clock on the mantel began to send out its twelve 
 tiny warning notes. She did not remember. She 
 was looking in his eyes, smiling, bending over him, 
 claiming him by every gentle right ; and the breath th?t 
 came deeply from her moving breast descended to him, 
 bearing all her strength, all her will, all herself.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 AT four o'clock, Garry once more asleep to the 
 sound of her calming voice, she ran out for a 
 brief visit to Miss Pirn's. In front of the door was an 
 automobile that she recognized in the heavy medi- 
 ocrity of the parlor, Albert Edward Sassoon. He 
 came languidly to meet her (since her first reproof he 
 had given up his pasha pose), unruffled and docile, as- 
 suming the role of good fellowship, despite the fretting 
 of the spirit he had endured. 
 
 " Oh, is that you ? " she remarked nonchalantly, and 
 gave him a limp hand, arranging her toque in the mir- 
 ror while listening to his Christmas greetings. 
 
 " The humblest and the most patient of your ad- 
 mirers, pretty tyrant ! " he said, his tired eyes scan- 
 ning her with mock humility. 
 
 " You are lucky to find me ; waiting long? " 
 
 As she continued standing, without a move to be 
 seated, he drew from his pocket two jewel-cases, and 
 said, as he moved toward the sofa : 
 
 " I am going to let you choose, Miss Dodo, so that 
 you may be sure " he paused, and added with slow 
 silky emphasis "to get just what you want! " 
 
 " Oh, that's very nice ! " she said, with a nod, a lit- 
 tle intrigued at the suggestion in his voice, very curious 
 to see what he would offer her. Between them she 
 
 357
 
 358 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 was always conscious of move and countermove. 
 Would he take this moment to make another overt ad- 
 vance, after these long weeks of acquiescence to her 
 whims ? Just how much did this infatuation and pur- 
 suit mean to him, translated into dollars? She sat 
 down, keenly interested, holding out her hand. 
 
 "First, please!" 
 
 He laid a red plush box on her eager palm, slowly, 
 delaying a moment en connaisseur, to appreciate the 
 delicate wrist and the shell-pink fragile shades of the 
 finger-tips. 
 
 "It's a ring, a valuable ring, to tempt me!'' she 
 thought, smiling wisely to herself. She opened the 
 box immensely surprised. Inside was a tiny watch 
 bracelet in gold and enamel, rare in design, but quite 
 modest as an offering from him. 
 
 She slipped it on her wrist, nodding appreciatively, 
 choosing her words carefully. 
 
 " How cunning ! What a dear little watch ! How 
 clever of you ! " 
 
 " Wait ! " He leaned forward, offering the other 
 box. " There is a choice, you know ! " 
 
 She pressed the spring, and remained staring, 
 caught by surprise. Against a background of royal 
 blue, a necklace of pearls met her eyes, luminous and 
 humanly, nakedly beautiful a necklace such as once 
 she had stood before on Fifth Avenue, breathless with 
 desire, coveting each pearl that lay like a rare and per- 
 fectly beautiful nymph asleep against the lawn. The 
 choice ! She understood the cruel cleverness of it now. 
 She shut the cover quickly, afraid to let her fingers
 
 THE SALAMANDER 359 
 
 know the delight of such a caress. Then she raised 
 her eyes steadily to his keen scrutiny. 
 
 " You ran no risk ! " she said scornfully. 
 
 " Take it ! I ask nothing ! " he said quietly. 
 
 "Then why offer it?" 
 
 " That you may understand my nature," he said in 
 a lower voice " how I am when I care ! " 
 
 " You know I could not honestly take such a pres- 
 ent!" 
 
 "Why not? You have warned me!" he still per- 
 sisted. 
 
 " I think such a woman is worse than one who pays," 
 she said disdainfully, and with an angry motion she 
 pushed the box from her, rising. 
 
 " Miss Baxter," he said, with studied courtesy, put- 
 ting the necklace back into his pocket, " it was bought 
 for you ; it will be waiting for you." 
 
 "Ah, that's what you've been leading up to!" she 
 said sharply, a note of anger in her voice; for the 
 love of the jewels had left an ache. 
 
 "Yes," he said frankly; "but they are yours 
 whenever you ask." 
 
 " Why don't you say what you want to say, Mr. 
 Sassoon? Are you so afraid of me?" she said, look- 
 ing him directly in the eyes. 
 
 " Perhaps ! " he answered, pulling at his mustache. 
 " And yet, we may as well be open, hadn't we? " 
 
 She studied him a moment, and then resumed her 
 seat, making him a peremptory sign to continue. 
 
 " It is difficult to express, perhaps," he said with- 
 out, however, any trouble showing in his even tones.
 
 360 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 He paused and looked at his hand, stroking it with the 
 feline motion of his fingers. Then all at once he be- 
 gan: 
 
 " Miss Baxter, I have been careful to follow the 
 laws of the game you laid down, haven't I? I have 
 taken care not to offend you by word or action, haven't 
 I?" 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Will you let me say this to you, little girl ? " he 
 said, finding all at once his note. " You are going to 
 make up your mind very soon what you want in life. 
 You are too clever to wait long. Now, to be quite 
 fair, as you pride yourself in being, you know who I 
 am, and you know what I want. Yet you are willing 
 to see me, knowing that ! " 
 
 She took off the bracelet immediately. 
 
 " I have not the slightest interest whether I see you 
 or not ! " she said coldly. " To be honest, I only care 
 to annoy you, to pay you back for your impertinence at 
 your luncheon, to teach you a lesson that every woman 
 is not for sale in a word, to humiliate you as much 
 as I can ! " 
 
 He did not receive this in anger far from it : 
 his eyes took on a sudden eagerness, an avidity that he 
 had hitherto controlled. 
 
 " Are you sure that is quite the truth all the 
 truth ? " he asked, smiling his heavy ironical smile. 
 " Are you sure you haven't been a little curious to 
 know what this might mean, before you reject it? 
 No, don't fib!" he said quietly, as she turned, "Is 
 there anything unnatural extraordinary in that?
 
 THE SALAMANDER 361 
 
 Don't you think such ideas come into the minds of 
 most women? If you are going in for a career, you 
 know what you must face ! This world is a ridiculous 
 world ; laws are made to crush petty offenders ! If you 
 allied your name to a little manager, every one would 
 scorn you ! " 
 
 " And if I were your mistress, Mr. Sassoon? Say 
 the word ! " 
 
 "If you were, with your cleverness," he said quietly, 
 " you would be received wherever I wanted you to be 
 received : more, you would be sought, courted, flattered 
 by those who want something out of me. Or, if you 
 wanted a career, every obstacle would disappear at one 
 word! Ask any one, if you want to know the truth 
 of what I say. That's the world, young lady." He 
 checked himself. " I don't want to talk over that 
 now! You asked me a direct question. This is my 
 answer. Accept me for what I am considering me 
 as a possibility. It's worth it ; be sure that it is a big- 
 ger field than a marriage of drudgery that ends your 
 liberty. Consider me carefully, simply as an abstract 
 proposition! Meanwhile, give me credit for being 
 quite submissive and obedient ! " 
 
 She remained thoughtful, surprised at the keenness 
 of his insight, feeling she had underestimated him, feel- 
 ing, too, the dramatic opposition of herself, little wan- 
 dering atom of mediocrity and the great powers of 
 wealth that could impress her so convincingly out of 
 the time-worn eyes of this bored man. 
 
 " What are you thinking of, pretty child? " he said, 
 struck at her glance.
 
 362 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " It is only because you can't have me ! " she said 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Because you don't care for what other women 
 do ! " he said quickly. " Because I am tired eter- 
 nally tired of women who fling themselves at me! 
 Because you make me follow you. Listen! You 
 won't believe me it's true. You can do anything 
 you want with me ! " 
 
 " Harrigan Blood offers me himself ! " she said mali- 
 ciously, for she began to have the same instinct with 
 him as she had with Massingale, to whip him out of 
 his calm into a fury. 
 
 " Blood ! " he said angrily. " Child, you would 
 hold a man like that three months. He would devour 
 you, crush you. That type only feeds on women ! 
 You think I don't care! Do you know that just be- 
 cause you turned up in my life I've broken with Blood 
 that we are fighting each other tooth and nail, that 
 I've caught him in the market, and will wring him for 
 forty or fifty thousand for daring to get in my path ! " 
 
 " And he ? " she cried, delighted. 
 
 He noticed the joy in her, the childish delight 
 of mischief, which reckoned great disasters as a broken 
 vase. 
 
 " Little devil ! That's what I like in you ! " he said, 
 with a flash of his eyes. " Blood is hammering me 
 tooth and nail. He'll put me back three years, per- 
 haps, tie me up and cost me a million or two more. 
 But that's all the good it'll do him! Well, are you 
 pleased ? " 
 
 "Yes, I like that!"
 
 THE SALAMANDER 363 
 
 "And which is it to be?" 
 
 " The bracelet, please ! " 
 
 He laughed, fastening it on her arm, taking no ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 " You see how domesticated I am ! " 
 
 " You behave very well ! " 
 
 " Grant me one favor, then ! " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " To see your room," he said eagerly. 
 
 She was about to refuse, when the thought of Sny- 
 der and Betty above made her bite her lip with malice, 
 and ask: 
 
 " Well, for once ! But why ? " 
 
 " To see what you prefer to all you could have ! " 
 he said ; but he said it impersonally, bowing his thanks, 
 resolved to school himself to impassibility and patience. 
 
 No sooner had they reached her room than he com- 
 prehended her trap. But it was too late to retreat. 
 He was forced to make the best of it, submitting to 
 introductions, pretending interest in the child and the 
 tree. Then, inventing a lie, aware always of the 
 laughter behind Dodo's eyes, he drew a ten-dollar bill 
 from his pocket, and addressing Betty, said: 
 
 " Miss Baxter was kind enough to let me come up 
 just for the Christmas tree. This is my present ; buy 
 anything you want ! " 
 
 And with a stiff bow, he fled from childish things, 
 cursing his deception, rage and avidity in his heart. 
 Dodo, with shrieks of laughter, threw herself rolling 
 on the bed. 
 
 But all at once she rose anxiously.
 
 364 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Snyder, did he come at twelve ? You know whom 
 I mean ! " 
 
 " Yes, he came ! " 
 
 " You saw him? What did you say? " 
 
 " Told him you'd been in gone out didn't know 
 where ! " said Snyder in her jerky way. 
 
 " Snyder ! " she cried furiously. " Did he leave a 
 message ? " 
 
 "No!" 
 
 " Snyder, don't deceive me ! " she said imperatively. 
 "Where is the letter?" 
 
 The woman shrugged her shoulders, hesitated, then 
 went to a drawer and flung a letter on the table. Dodo 
 tore it open. It was brevity itself. 
 
 " Twelve to twelve forty-five. Why ? " 
 
 Though she herself was at fault, the curtness of his 
 message aroused her irritation. She crumpled it in 
 her hands, then tore it to pieces. 
 
 " Very well ! Now for presents ! " she said. 
 
 When, after the last mysterious box had been 
 opened with rapturous cries, dolls dressed and un- 
 dressed, enormous mouthfuls of sweets consumed and 
 crackers pulled with shrieks of fear, Snyder went off 
 with Betty in a gale of excitement. Dodo, left alone, 
 hurried to her presents. The harvest had been 
 abundant; the table shone with silver. Mr. Peavey 
 had sent a magnificent toilet set, Harrigan Blood a 
 vanity box in gold which she embraced in her delight, 
 Blainey a brooch which had solid convertible quali- 
 ties; scarf-pins and silverware abounded. There was
 
 THE SALAMANDER '365 
 
 
 
 a set of sable furs from Stacey (heavens! how often 
 she had feared he had not understood!), but only a 
 silver-mounted umbrella from Gilday (like a card with 
 " P.P.C." across, she thought!). Massingale's brace- 
 let was of exquisite workmanship, oriental, inclosing 
 a talisman set in rubies, her favorite stone. She 
 slipped it over her wrist, fascinated and content with 
 its elegance and charm, which she associated always 
 with him. Overcome by remorse, she hastened to the 
 telephone. She tried his club, but he was not in. She 
 left her number, and hurriedly sent off a note by Jose- 
 phus, promising to explain all, a note full of healing af- 
 fection and contrition, giving him a rendezvous for 
 nine precisely. Then she ran down the stairs, and hur- 
 ried back to her patient. 
 
 He was awake, waiting her coming, and the nervous 
 longing in his eyes changed to peaceful contemplation 
 as she came daintily in. 
 
 " I hoped you wouldn't wake up until I got back," 
 she said, throwing off her new furs and raising her 
 little toque from her tomboy golden curls, which 
 seemed to dance in joyful liberation. The red snap 
 of the chill snow was on her cheeks, in her eyes unmis- 
 takable eagerness to be back. 
 
 He saw it, and smiled too, beckoning her with a lit- 
 tle motion of his outstretched hand. Then his glance 
 went anxiously to Clarice ; but she, as if interested only 
 in the furs, bore them out of the room. Dodo took her 
 chair by his side, looking down happily. 
 
 " Many presents ? " he asked slowly. 
 
 She nodded gaily.
 
 366 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 "Heaps!" 
 
 He put his hand under the pillow and drew some- 
 thing out. He held it a moment in his hand, his fist 
 closed over it. 
 
 " My present." 
 
 " Really ? " she said, clasping her hands. 
 
 He watched her hungrily, devouring every fugitive 
 flash of youth and beauty. Then he held up a ring, a 
 diamond flanked by two rubies, in an old setting. 
 
 " It's been in the family long time. My 
 mother's," he said. 
 
 But Dodo, drawing back, confused, touched, re- 
 sisted. 
 
 " Oh, no ! I couldn't ! It's much too valuable. 
 Please, please don't ask it ! " 
 
 "Too valuable?" he said, with a touch of anger. 
 " For you ? Give me your hand left, please ! " 
 
 As she started to protest further, he closed his eyes 
 wearily. She stopped instantly, afraid of over-excite- 
 ment. If he wanted anything that she could give him, 
 it was his. 
 
 " Here, Garry ! " she said. "I it's because I 
 am overwhelmed ! " 
 
 He took her hand, discarding with a smile the fin- 
 ger she offered, choosing the one that was reserved for 
 the pledge of lovers, and before she knew it, slipped it 
 on. She caught her breath, and a sharp pain seemed 
 to go through her. She could not refuse; yet to ac- 
 cept seemed a treason. 
 
 " It doesn't bind you means everything to me ! " 
 
 " Does it ? " she said, suddenly pliant.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 567 
 
 The Hght in his eyes, struggling out of the shadows 
 of defeat, alone was her answer. She made a quick 
 reservation. If this could mean anything to him, could 
 help him in any way, had she a right to withhold it? 
 When he had conquered, when he was strong again, 
 when he saw her with clear eyes as she was, so far re- 
 moved from him then she would tell him, and he 
 would at least revere her memory. She felt a lump in 
 her throat, a smile on her lips, and a wetness in her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Wish it on, then ! " she said, laughing merrily. 
 " Do you believe? " 
 
 " I will believe ! " he said gravely. 
 
 Then he chuckled at this bit of boy-and-girl senti- 
 ment, and she laughed back. It was so good to be 
 there so soul-satisfying ! 
 
 A little before nine, with a promise to drop in later 
 for a few minutes, she went back to keep her appoint- 
 ment with Massingale. But she was conscious of a 
 little regret, an unwillingness to leave the quiet moods 
 into which she had come. Then, there would have to 
 be explanations, something invented, for she could 
 not tell him the truth, and the thought of complaints 
 and replies, discussion and fencing, all the nervous 
 play and struggle of the last weeks repeated, fretted 
 her and left her impatient. But when she had waited 
 in her room until nine, and another half-hour had 
 dragged on without his coming, she was a bit alarmed. 
 She went slowly to the telephone, hesitating and de- 
 liberating. Then she stopped, shook her head and re- 
 turned.
 
 368 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 All at once the door of Winona's room opened, and 
 the tall dark figure of the girl remained in the open- 
 ing, silently, her hand on the knob, hesitating. 
 
 Dodo gave a little exclamation and drew back 
 against the table, her head thrown back, proud, 
 wounded and unrelenting. 
 
 This silent confrontation lasted a long moment be- 
 fore Winona said slowly : 
 
 " Won't you let me come in ? " 
 
 Dodo was human, and the offense against her had 
 been the blackest in the Salamander code. She felt 
 no softness in her heart. After what she had done, 
 the old confidential relations could never be renewed: 
 what was the use of pretending? So she answered 
 coldly : 
 
 " Why ? There was no excuse for what you did 
 absolutely none ! " 
 
 Winona, very calm, reflected a moment; then she 
 answered abruptly : 
 
 " I know ! I'm not asking forgiveness ! " And, 
 with a decision that astonished Dodo, she entered, say- 
 ing, " No one will come for half an hour at least? 
 I've got something I must talk out, you're the only hu- 
 man being, Dodo I must talk to some one, or I shall 
 go mad ! " 
 
 The obstinate reckless force in her words and ges- 
 tures completed Dodo's astonishment. Instead of a 
 suppliant, Winona had assumed control of the situa- 
 tion. She hesitated, on the point of an angry refusal. 
 But Winona had not come to ask for forgiveness 
 for what then ? She turned on her heel, sat down and
 
 THE SALAMANDER 369 
 
 folded her arms aggressively, looking her sternest. 
 Winona immediately placed herself before her, never 
 avoiding her gaze, speaking abruptly, as if in a hurry, 
 with hard cruel notes in her voice : 
 
 " Dodo, you were the only true friend I had in the 
 world ; you did everything for me ; and I tried to take 
 from you a man who means nothing to you. You have 
 a dozen, twenty, if you wish, and I had none ! I 
 was desperate! I'm saying no more what's the 
 use ? You wouldn't forgive me I wouldn't if I were 
 you; and, if you did, would that change matters? 
 No! Some day you will see matters differently." 
 She stopped at an angry gesture of negation from the 
 seated girl, and repeated, with a smile full of bitter- 
 ness : " Some day yes, remember what I say ! " 
 For a moment, through the hardness of her mood, a 
 little bit of the old Winona appeared, gentle and tender, 
 as she looked down with the first trace of remorse; 
 but she crushed it immediately, and continued almost 
 mechanically, as if reciting a piece committed to 
 memory : 
 
 " What I tell you now, I tell you because you are 
 the only one I can trust, and because, no matter what's 
 happened, you are the one I want to understand. I 
 have been married for five years ! " 
 
 At this incredible announcement Dodo let her arms 
 fall, half rising from her seat, open-mouthed. 
 
 "Married!" 
 
 " Five years ! " Winona repeated, shrugging her 
 shoulders. " Legally, that's all. Don't interrupt me ; 
 I want to get it over. I lived in a God- forsaken fish-
 
 370 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 ing village on the Maine coast God-forsaken eight 
 months of the year, waking up in the summer for a 
 few city folks, second-class, who'd come down for 
 three months, four months, to keep us going the rest of 
 the year. Father was a decent sort, sea captain, fuss- 
 ing about a couple of cat-boats in the summer, lazy, but 
 kind. My mother was a devil if ever there was one; 
 but she worked hard, washing, cooking. She couldn't 
 read or write. Why he married her don't know ! 
 Because she got him with her good looks, probably, the 
 looks she passed down to my sister and me! There 
 were eight in the family, and we were the eldest 
 village belles. Morals weren't any too strict there; 
 lord, why should they be? With everything gone to 
 rot, no hope, no life, just existing, dragging through 
 one month after another sleet, ice and wind, and 
 nothing ahead but to get old! All right, when you 
 didn't know that something else existed over on the 
 mainland ! That was the trouble ! They educated us 
 sent us over for a year's high school at New Bed- 
 ford, to stay with an aunt. 
 
 " New Bedford ! Lord, I thought it was a wonder- 
 land then ; Boston and New York couldn't be any finer. 
 Then she brought us back, to help in the living, to wait 
 on the table when the boarders came, to end up by mar- 
 rying work for some man who'd sit around, to be 
 fed and clothed, to have his house cleaned chil- 
 dren and all the rest." 
 
 She stopped a moment, frowning, and Dodo, over- 
 whelmed at this picture of isolation and drudgery, that 
 started before her eyes in the gesture and the voice of
 
 THE SALAMANDER 371 
 
 the girl, who seemed to have returned to it all, ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 "But why tell me?" 
 
 Without noticing the interruption, Winona contin- 
 ued, speaking as if to herself, seemingly unconscious 
 of Dodo's presence: 
 
 "New Bedford and summer boarders! That was 
 the whole trouble! I was eighteen, sister twenty, and 
 the village belles ! We used to get out of the windows, 
 nights, and steal off for a dance, every chance we got. 
 Lord! it was innocent enough, considering what the 
 other girls were doing ; but she the mother when- 
 ever she'd catch us, she used to go stark out of her 
 mind, swear we were disgracing her, bringing shame 
 on the family, insinuating well, everything! That 
 wasn't all ! She tied us up and beat us with a strap 
 yes, just that ! until she couldn't beat or shriek at us 
 any more. But that didn't stop us ! It only made us 
 hate everything her, the home, the life! Once she 
 beat my sister so that they had to call in a doctor. 
 The next week she ran off disappeared." Winona 
 drew a long breath, and her arm swept toward the 
 trackless city, lowering at their window-sides: 
 " Never a word. God knows ! The worst, I guess 
 here, perhaps somewhere ! 
 
 " She wanted me to go with her ; I hadn't the nerve. 
 Besides, there was a city fellow, clerk in a shoe store, 
 who was taken with me, and I thought I was sure 
 would marry me and get me out of it. But noth- 
 ing ever came of that. After my sister went, she, the 
 mother, never beat me again. Father had had some
 
 372 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 words with her, I guess. Only it was worse! She 
 had bars put in my window, and she never let me out 
 of her sight in summer. When she went to bed she 
 locked me in herself. She swore she'd keep me, at 
 least, an honest girl. Two years of that. God knows 
 how many times I thought ot ending it all! 
 
 " Then there was an old fellow from the city, who 
 had come down ten years before, and stayed. Been 
 a gentleman, or something near it. Drink was the 
 trouble but a quiet sort of an old bachelor. Took 
 over the little ramshackle store, living by himself with 
 a regiment of cats. There'd been something back in 
 his life scandal about something or other: none 
 of us ever got the truth, but it took the ambition out 
 of him. He didn't care. He rather liked the old 
 hole, I think. The store, you know, was the social 
 center. Anyhow, he got sort of hold of himself, and 
 prospered. 
 
 " Now, what I did, I did myself. I made him fall in 
 love with me oh, it wasn't difficult ! I'd known for 
 a long time what was back of his eyes ; only well, I 
 was the belle, and every one was after me, and he'd 
 sense enough to know that a prize like that wasn't for 
 him, at fifty-five. Well, the rest isn't important; be- 
 sides, it was easy. He got infatuated, as I meant, and 
 when it was time I made a bargain. I had talked him 
 into believing I would have a career; only it wasn't 
 that I wanted to get away ! And one afternoon in 
 December, with the snow piling up against the door, 
 when we were alone in his store, I made my bargain 
 over the counter just like any other sale.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 373 
 
 " He was to supply me with money for three years, 
 and at the end of that time, if I was a success, he was 
 to join me; if I failed, I was to go back, forget and 
 take up the old life again. It sounds queer perhaps; 
 as a matter of fact, I played many scenes before I got 
 him to that. I was clever then; I was only twenty- 
 one! Then >well, I'd put the longing for me into 
 him, and it was a bargain like any other. I wanted! 
 five years, but he stuck for three. I wanted an en- 
 gagement only, but, though he was crazy for me, he 
 was too canny. So we compromised: I met him in 
 Boston, and we were married secretly, and I left him. 
 the same day. He took me to the train and put me on 
 board, shaking like a fever, looking at me with eyes 
 big as saucers. 
 
 " That was four years ago. I did not go back, and 
 he stopped sending me money. I wrote him a hun- 
 dred lies told him I must have another year by my- 
 self, that I had a big opportunity, that I was sure to 
 succeed, that he had not given me enough time, every 
 excuse. But he stopped my money short, told me 
 when I was ready I'd got to come to him " 
 
 She stopped, drew in her breath, and then burst out 
 fiercely : 
 
 " God ! I may be a wicked woman, but how I have 
 waited, how I have prayed, to be delivered from him ! 
 Yes, prayed on my knees for him to die to make me 
 free, to give me a chance! But what's the use? I 
 thought I was so clever! Clever? . . . I'm a stupid 
 little fool! Career? I haven't the ghost of a show! 
 I know it now ! There's no more hoping ! I've had
 
 374 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 chance after chance; what good did they do me? 
 That last one that opened my eyes ! Blainey's 
 right; he didn't mince words. It was what I needed; 
 it convinced me! But, God! if he would only die! " 
 
 Dodo had sat breathlessly, even shrinking back in her 
 chair, before these passions in the raw, flung out with- 
 out pretense of concealment, horror-stricken. 
 
 " But what will you do then ? " she cried, terrified 
 at the expression in Winona's eyes. 
 
 The girl's eyes came to hers, cold, resolved, dis- 
 dainful; but she did not reply. A horrible thought 
 suddenly possessed Dodo, as of an ominous echo out 
 of her own past. 
 
 " You won't go back ! " she cried, shuddering. 
 
 " Go back to that ? To that loneliness, that starva- 
 tion, that slavery, after knowing this? " she cried fu- 
 riously, clenching her fist and starting back. Then 
 she caught herself, looked away, and presently turned, 
 calm, with a light of bitter mockery on her set face. 
 " No ! That is one thing I won't do ! " 
 
 She dropped her fist, which had been pressed to her 
 throat, with a short rough gesture of finality, and went 
 directly to her door. 
 
 " Whether you come to forgive me or not," she said, 
 " if I ever can help you, Dodo, save you from any- 
 thing, come to me ! " 
 
 And without waiting for an answer, she closed and 
 locked the door. 
 
 For minute on minute Dodo remained as she had 
 sprung up, her chin in her hand, her knuckles pressed 
 tensely against the sharp contact of her teeth, thinking,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 575 
 
 hesitating, torn by conflicting impulses. Had Winona 
 dramatized her story, as she herself had done a hun- 
 dred times? Was it all true, or only half true? If 
 it were true, then what had she sought with Peavey, if 
 not to be his wife what, then? Only Peavey could 
 tell her, make her certain of the truth or falsity of this 
 story. And yet, there were accents, cries of the soul, 
 despair of the eyes, that were too poignantly felt to be 
 counterfeited! Dodo tiptoed to the door, listening. 
 From the other side came the regular tread of a pac- 
 ing step, regular and nervous; but of weeping no 
 sound! She remained still a moment, her hand 
 pressed to her breast, irresistibly drawn to belief. 
 Had Winona opened the door at the moment, she 
 would have caught her in her arms. 
 
 Then she remembered Lindaberry, staring into the 
 horror of the night into the long wakeful darkness ; 
 and she said to herself, as she departed hurriedly: 
 
 " To-morrow I will go to her. It can not be a lie ! " 
 
 She found Lindaberry flushed with a sudden fever, 
 that burned brightly on his worn cheeks and in the 
 luminous brilliant eyes, which scarcely recognized her. 
 Doctor Lampson was there. It was an attack of influ- 
 enza, brought on by exposure and the drain on his vi- 
 tality, which might be serious in his present condition. 
 
 She remained obstinately all night, sharing the 
 watches with Clarice. The fever, which flared up 
 fiercely at first, subsided somewhat with the coming of 
 the day, leaving him quiet, but in a dangerously weak 
 condition. When again she had the opportunity to 
 return to her room, she remembered Winona. The
 
 376 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 fear of what might happen to the wasted man at whose 
 bedside she had watched, the cleansing of the spirit 
 which the single thought of death had brought, had 
 washed away all bitterness. She opened the door 
 with longing, her arms ready. The room was empty, 
 the bed untouched ! In the center a trunk stood locked 
 and corded. When she returned again in the after- 
 noon, even the trunk had disappeared. Miss Pirn, 
 who arrived with professional, calculating eye, an- 
 swered her outpouring of questions by a magnificent 
 gesture of disdain. 
 
 " Said she was going to a house-party for a 
 week. That's what she said! H'm, I've got the 
 trunk, if I haven't got two weeks' board! We shall 
 see what we shall see ! / have my suspicions ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 DURING the days in which Lindaberry lay weak 
 and shattered, slowly struggling back to strength 
 and a new grip on things, some perverse spirit seemed 
 to actuate Dodo in her attitude toward Massingale. 
 She had remained without seeing him for forty-eight 
 hours after Christmas, refusing to make the advance 
 when he had stayed away. Feeling a need of retalia- 
 tion, she went to luncheon twice with Harrigan Blood 
 in the short hours in which she absented herself from 
 the sick-room. When finally, the third day, Massin- 
 gale capitulated and came to see her, she treated him 
 with the greatest indifference, inventing new stories, 
 incredible, but galling to his pride. 
 
 " Why didn't you come ? " he said, without prelim- 
 inaries. 
 
 " I have other friends and other engagements ! " 
 she said, shrugging her shoulders. " Besides, I have 
 resolved to make it easier for you." 
 
 "Forme?" 
 
 'To be just a father confessor!" she said mali- 
 ciously. 
 
 He had no answer that he could phrase, so he 
 waited, staring at his boot in perplexity, aware of the 
 lights that were dancing in her roguish eyes. 
 
 " And dinner Christmas dinner? " 
 377
 
 378 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Engaged, too; my other friends don't leave things 
 to chance ! " 
 
 " Why do you treat me this way? " he asked, frown- 
 ing. 
 
 " What way? I'm sure I'm very nice to you! I'm 
 not even angry because you've been sulking all this 
 time!" 
 
 She stood before him, laughing, her head on one 
 side, her hands on her hips. He made a movement as 
 if to seize her, and she sprang away. 
 
 " Don't let's quarrel; I've been quite miserable! " 
 
 " Serves you right ! " she said, unrelenting, deter- 
 mined to teach him by a bitter lesson what punishment 
 she reserved for rebels. 
 
 At this moment his eye perceived the ring that Lin- 
 daberry had placed on her finger. At the same instant 
 she caught his glance, and flourished her hand tanta- 
 lizingly before his eyes. 
 
 "Isn't it beautiful?" 
 
 "What's that mean?" 
 
 " It means I'm engaged ! " she said demurely. 
 
 " Who lent you that thing? " 
 
 " I'm a very mysterious person," she said gravely. 
 " Look out! Some day you'll find me married before 
 you know it ! " 
 
 He looked at her with his intimidating, magisterial 
 stare. 
 
 " Oh, you don't frighten me at all, Your Honor ! " 
 she said, making a face. 
 
 " I don't believe a word you say ! You've bor- 
 rowed the ring, and you've made ready a fine story;
 
 THE SALAMANDER 379 
 
 \ 
 
 but I'm not going to give you the pleasure. Will you 
 dine with me? " 
 
 " Previous engagement ! " 
 
 " With your fiance, of course? " 
 
 "Quite right!" 
 
 " That's serious ? " he said, rising, and containing 
 his wrath with difficulty. 
 
 " Very serious ! " 
 
 "Good-by, then!" 
 
 " Au revoir or good-by? " 
 
 " Good-by ! " he said dryly and with emphasis. 
 
 She accompanied him to the door with a well simu- 
 lated mask of tragedy, shook hands gravely, and sud- 
 denly, with a burst of laughter, called after him: 
 
 " To-morrow here same hour ! If you're not 
 on time you won't find me ! " 
 
 The next day she told him, very seriously, the story 
 of the ring, and with the true spirit of fiction, assimi- 
 lating all that came to her ear and turning it into per- 
 sonal experience, she profited by what Winona had 
 told her. 
 
 " You are sure you want to know? " she began, with 
 a little alarmed air. 
 
 He nodded with a jerky, irritated motion. 
 
 :( You will be annoyed," she said, hesitating; "you 
 won't like it ! " 
 
 "Begin!" 
 
 " Very well ! I've told you often my time is not 
 my own. The truth is that at any moment I may 
 have to go when I am called," she began. Her starts 
 were always rather jerky until the mood had enveloped
 
 380 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 her. Suddenly she remembered Winona and dashed 
 ahead. " The person who gave me this ring is an old 
 man, sixty-five years of age very rich. You have 
 often wanted to know how I manage to live. He 
 gives me the money. I have signed a contract to 
 marry him when three years are up. There! Now 
 you know all ! That is my fate if he lives ! To- 
 day he is desperately ill." 
 
 She went to the window, draping herself in the 
 proper tragic pose, gazing but into the clear frozen 
 twilight, drawing a deep sigh. 
 
 " It was all before I knew you when I first came, 
 when I was desperate, without a friend, without a 
 cent ! It was either that or " She left the window 
 abruptly, overcome by the mood, and returning, sat 
 down, her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands. 
 " He is a gambler, a partner of my father's. He fell 
 in love with me there at Gold Fields you remem- 
 ber? When my father was killed, he sent me to 
 school ; he has always been kind, very kind. Wanted 
 to marry me afterward, but I wouldn't hear of it. I 
 ran away. I wanted to be young, to enjoy life, to live ! 
 He is very ugly, very old; his skin is all spotted and 
 loose, and his eyes are watery and faded, and when he 
 touches me I shiver." 
 
 She raised her head, staring before her, drawing 
 down the corners of her mouth. 
 
 " I didn't see him again until until I came here, 
 and that was by accident. Everything had gone 
 wrong! The company I had come with had failed; 
 I could get nothing to do ! It was very black. There
 
 THE SALAMANDER 381 
 
 were men, horrible men, offering me you under- 
 stand ! I sold newspapers, in all kinds of weather, un- 
 til ten or eleven at night sometimes, to get enough to 
 eat! That's where he found me, under an umbrella 
 on a street corner, in a pouring rain, a bundle of news- 
 papers soaking under my arm. I was crying; I 
 couldn't struggle any more ! He took me to his home, 
 a beautiful place just off Washington Square. He 
 wanted me to marry him then. I can remember every 
 word he said : 
 
 " ' I'm over sixty. I've lived hard. Two strokes 
 
 and the next will box me up. At the worst, girl, 
 it'll only be four or five years and then seven hundred 
 thousand coming to you ! ' 
 
 " I don't know what I might have answered, but he 
 put out his hand wrinkled chalky hand ! I can see 
 it now and touched mine. Ugh! But I made the 
 bargain then and there, signed it in black and white. 
 Three years to do as I please, and then " 
 
 " And the time is up precisely on the tenth of 
 March? " he said, with a grim smile. 
 
 " No ! I have eight months more," she said, furi- 
 ous that he should not have been convinced by a story 
 which had moved even her. " Who knows ? He is 
 very, very ill ; it may all be over in a week ! " 
 
 All at once the true effect flashed into her imagina- 
 tion, she turned, seizing him by the coat violently, 
 clinging to him, crying : 
 
 " Oh, Your Honor, forgive me whatever I do these 
 days ! I haven't told you the truth. I'm not engaged 
 
 I'm married to him! And it's horrible it is kill-
 
 382 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 ing me ! I don't know what I shall do. I think such 
 wicked thoughts. I hope he'll never recover! Can 
 you ever love me now ? " 
 
 His answer was effective. He swore a splendid, 
 soul-easing oath, adding: 
 
 " Dodo, if ever I'm fool enough to believe you, I 
 deserve all I get! " 
 
 She laughed through the tears which had come nat- 
 urally. 
 
 " So that's all you'll tell me ! " he said roughly. 
 
 " Oh, there's always some truth in what I tell you ! " 
 she answered ; and she had so entered into the part, so 
 completely dramatized herself, that all that day he 
 could not succeed in drawing her back to plain mat- 
 ter-of-fact. 
 
 But, despite all the good humor he put to her ca- 
 prices, the determination to plague him always re- 
 turned to her in some animal revulsion on leaving 
 Lindaberry. No sooner had she left this quieter self 
 that she found herself seized by the need of violent 
 reaction, to which Massingale did not always suffice. 
 Consequently she gave more time and more oppor- 
 tunity to Sassoon than she ordinarily would have done 
 in prudence. But Sassoon, as though the lion had 
 clipped his claws, never made the slightest attempt to 
 presume, acting mildness and docility. She even began 
 to consider him as rather a safe person, who could 
 always, in the last test, be found manageable which 
 was exactly what Albert Edward Sassoon had 
 planned. Next mutually to provoke Judge Massin-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 383 
 
 gale and Harrigan Blood, she persuaded them to 
 lunch en trois. The alacrity with which Massingale 
 (who, since the unexplained ring, was suspicious of 
 Blood) agreed where she expected resistance, drove 
 her to too overt a display of interest before Harrigan 
 Blood, with his keen vindictive eyes. 
 
 This luncheon, the result of one of those unreflect- 
 ing impulses which seem so casual at the time, was 
 destined to have the gravest consequences. Harrigan 
 Blood, suddenly enlightened as to the true state of 
 Dodo's interests, perceived that the ruinous quarrel 
 with Sassoon had been to no end, and disillusioned 
 and duped, became a bitter enemy of Massingale's : 
 for Blood, with all his idealism in the domain of ideas, 
 was capable of petty and terrible vindictiveness when 
 his desires were once aroused. This luncheon, in fact, 
 cost Massingale a career. 
 
 But Dodo, having thus roused Harrigan Blood to 
 an extent to which she little guessed, turned the ta- 
 bles on Massingale, who, claimed by the afternoon ses- 
 sion, was forced to hand her over to the escort of 
 Harrigan Blood and see them depart in the intimacy 
 of a closed automobile. 
 
 ' Thanks ! now I know who is my rival ! " said Har- 
 rigan Blood immediately. 
 
 "You think so?" 
 
 " I know ! " he said pointblank. Then, with a sud- 
 den rage, he turned on her. " Do you know what you 
 have cost me by making one mistake ? " 
 
 " Yes," she said softly ; " Mr. Sassoon told me ! "
 
 384 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 He swore at this, and went on: 
 
 " Look here ! I want to understand things ; I want 
 the truth ! I want some straight answers ! " 
 
 He was one of those men of force who believe that 
 they can resolve all feminine intrigues by bruskly 
 bringing things to a point. She smiled to herself at 
 this bull rushing toward a fancied light. 
 
 " Are you in love with Massingale ? If so, I want 
 to know ! " 
 
 " I haven't made up my mind," she said, looking 
 at him out of the corner of her eye. 
 
 " Are you playing a game with me or not? " 
 
 "That would be rather natural, wouldn't it?" 
 
 "What's that?" he said, amazed. 
 
 " We are rather different, aren't we ? " she said qui- 
 etly. " It's very easy for you to make up your mind 
 to put out your hand and take me, as you once ex- 
 pressed it; that's not a very great decision for you. 
 But it's a little different, you see it takes a little 
 longer to persuade me that I want to be taken. 
 You are a very poor hand at courting, Mr. Harrigan 
 Blood ; you go out to win a woman as you would bowl 
 down a lot of ten-pins. Don't you see? " 
 
 " Lord ! " he cried, angry at the fretting and time- 
 wasting she had made him endure and would further 
 inflict on him. " Will there ever be a woman who'll 
 have the courage to say, ' I love you as you love me, 
 and let's dispense with all this backing and filling, this 
 fencing, this coquetting and vexing of the spirit ! ' 
 And why? Afraid that if you give naturally you 
 won't be prized. That's the littleness about you
 
 THE SALAMANDER 385 
 
 women; you can't conceive anything on a big 
 scale!" 
 
 " But I don't know at all that I love you ! " she said 
 quietly. His last words had brought to her mind an 
 idea of Estelle Monk's, which she adopted instantly, 
 as she had adopted Winona's story. Even as she be- 
 gan she was laughing inwardly at the effect she knew 
 it would bring. " Win me make me love you ! 
 You have big ideas ; so have I ! " 
 
 He came closer, putting his arm back of her shoul- 
 der, taking her hand with impulsive suddenness, ex- 
 cited by this first opportunity she had permitted him. 
 
 " Give me a chance, Dodo ! Let me see you, like 
 this, but be honest with me ! " 
 
 " I'll be perfectly honest, Harrigan," she said de- 
 murely, smiling to herself at the thrill that went 
 through him at this first use of his name. " You are 
 very much mistaken if you think I am like other girls. 
 I want to be honest, and I am not afraid. We have 
 the same ideas about marriage. I want to be a pio- 
 neer, to have the courage to lead the way! I'm not 
 an adventuress. I shall never be ashamed of what I 
 do ! I shall never marry, but when I know that I love, 
 I shall go to the man of my choice openly ! " 
 
 He placed her hand to his lips enthusiastically. 
 
 " And 1 shall let the world know it! " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " And I shall announce it to every one ! " 
 
 A sudden chill came over his ardor; the hand that 
 had gripped hers so passionately felt all at once limp 
 and discouraged.
 
 3 86 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Are you serious ? " 
 
 " Absolutely ! I have made up my mind to this for 
 a long time ! " 
 
 " It isn't so easy," he said slowly. 
 
 " All the better ! " she replied enthusiastically. 
 "It'll show we have the courage of our convictions! 
 That's what you believe in, too, isn't it? " 
 
 "H'm yes." 
 
 The conversation suddenly dropped. He began to 
 stare out of the window, pulling at his short mustache, 
 while Dodo, shrunk in the corner, was choking with 
 laughter. When they arrived at Miss Pirn's, she 
 could no longer contain herself. He looked up sud- 
 denly, detecting her laughter, furious. 
 
 "What!" 
 
 " Oh, Harrigan Blood ! " she cried, between spells 
 of laughter. " What a chance you have missed 
 and you such a clever man ! " 
 
 " You were making fun of me ; you didn't mean 
 it ! " he cried angrily. 
 
 But Dodo, waving a feeble handkerchief, ran hilari- 
 ously up the stoop. 
 
 She returned from these excursions into her dra- 
 matic self to her nest, so to speak, languid and eager 
 for calm. How did it happen that she did not attempt 
 to dramatize herself with Lindaberry? Perhaps she 
 did; but, if so, it was always as something bodiless 
 and mystic, a sort of dipping into a religious exalta- 
 tion, conceiving of herself as a ministering sister of 
 the poor, sexless and utterly unselfish. But she 
 never, in the long hours when she sat by his bedside.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 387 
 
 prattling gaily or reading him to sleep, set sail on the 
 gentler seas of romance and passion. For him she 
 had great depth of tenderness and affection, being of- 
 ten deliciously moved, as she was when Betty's child- 
 ish body lay locked upon her heart. 
 
 When he welcomed her coming with a quick hail- 
 ing motion of his hand, his fa.ce radiant with smiles, 
 or when he listened, nodding or grave, fastening his 
 profound eyes on her as if afraid the slightest turn of 
 her head would escape him, he gave her a feeling of 
 long intimacy ; yet, when she spoke to him, even when 
 she drew closest, it was always without the feeling of 
 passion, of the realization of contact, which she always 
 felt with Massingale. 
 
 Her idea of love was more and more something 
 unreasoning, violent and stirring, something that up- 
 set all that had been planned, a flame that consumed 
 the will something that was perhaps greatest when 
 it hung on the threshold of tragedy, madness in some 
 form or other, sweet and bitter bitter, in the end, as 
 Tristan and Isolde. At this moment she could not 
 conceive of this serenity that lay between her and Lin- 
 daberry as love; and, besides, it made her feel older, 
 as if she were being hurried, as if something fragile 
 and elusive were being stolen from her. 
 
 A curious thing she sometimes had the feeling 
 that she was married to him, that she was a wife, 
 watching and devoted. It rather interested her to 
 project herself thus. The feeling came to her at 
 times strongly, when she rose to shift the pillows un- 
 der his head, as Clarice had taught her, or, watching
 
 3 88 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 his averted eyes, hurried to moderate the glare that 
 smote them from the windows. 
 
 Sometimes she thought of it with a sort of regret, 
 wishing that she were not constituted as she was, that 
 marriage were a possibility, that another had not 
 seized on her imagination and awakened in her such 
 fever. Here, alas ! everything was too permissible ; it 
 lacked the element of danger, of the forbidden which 
 alone could make the perfect Eden. But she felt with 
 him a vast security, and a curious oneness of sympa- 
 thies. If she were only ten years older if she were 
 not Dodo 
 
 But one day an interruption from the outer world 
 arrived to cast a stain of the matter-of-fact across the 
 fragile fabric of this dream life. It was the first day 
 that he had received permission to sit up in a chair, 
 and the event had been duly celebrated with much 
 gaiety. Lindaberry, in manly vanity, had insisted on 
 taking ten steps alone without the humiliation of fem- 
 inine support, but on- the return trip had been forced to 
 capitulate weakly. Having installed him again in bed, 
 while Clarice had hurried off for luncheon, Dodo was 
 bending over him, supporting his back with one arm, 
 piling up the pillows, when the door opened and Lin- 
 daberry's brother entered, followed by Doctor Lamp- 
 son. 
 
 " Hello, there, old bruiser ! " he began, in a rough 
 welcome in which a note of anxiety was trembling. 
 " You're a nice, brotherly person ! Why didn't you 
 send me a telegram ? " 
 
 All at once he stopped, perceiving that Dodo was
 
 THE SALAMANDER 389 
 
 not in nurse's dress. At the same moment she was 
 seized with a sudden embarrassment. Doctor Lamp- 
 son, in the background, equally at a loss, waited, rub- 
 bing his chin with quick nervous movements. Garry, 
 engrossed in the joy of seeing his brother, did not at 
 once perceive the situation. 
 
 " By the Lord Harry, Jock, glad to see you ! I'm 
 not all in yet, am I ? Sat up walked " A little 
 movement of Dodo's, stiffening and withdrawing, 
 caught his eye, and recalled him to the necessity of an 
 explanation. He hesitated only a moment, a little 
 unprepared, but that momentary delay hurt her with a 
 sudden swift pain. 
 
 "Jock, I want you to meet a good angel," he said 
 quickly. He stretched out his hand, taking hers, and 
 turned proudly : " This is Miss Baxter Dodo. 
 We are engaged to be married." 
 
 Jock Lindaberry's face at once lost the peculiar un- 
 decided stare it had borne. He stepped forward, 
 bending over her hand with a trace of the old-fash- 
 ioned courtesy that sat so naturally on Garry. 
 
 But the slight trace of awkwardness which had at- 
 tended the explanation, a fugitive sensitive thought 
 that Garry had said what he had to save the situation, 
 out of noblesse oblige, had shocked Dore in her 
 independent soul. She felt a sudden anger at the in- 
 valid, at the doctor who was a spectator, and at the 
 brother who had made such an excuse a social neces- 
 sity. 
 
 " Mr. Lindaberry is quite wrong ! " she said hotly. 
 " And his explanation is totally uncalled for, whatever
 
 390 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 his motives! We are not engaged. I have never 
 promised to marry him, and I do not need any such 
 excuse to account for my being here. Mr. Linda- 
 berry and Doctor Lampson both know what my mo- 
 tives are, and I consider them quite honorable enough 
 to need no apology. Good day! " 
 
 Before she could be prevented, deaf to the entreaties 
 of Lindaberry or the expostulations of his brother, 
 she walked out, in a fine temper. 
 
 Lindaberry did not understand in the least the mo- 
 tive of her revolt. He rather ascribed it to a refusal 
 on her part to commit herself. The next day, when 
 she came, he stammered out: 
 
 " Dodo, look here. You don't understand ! I'm 
 not taking things for granted I meant what I said. 
 You're bound to nothing. What I " 
 
 But she laid her hand across his lips, frowning. 
 
 " We won't discuss it ! " 
 
 The evening came when Garry, still with a touch 
 of weakness in voice and in complexion, was ready to 
 go off for a month in the open with Doctor Lampson 
 a hunting trip in the clarifying wilds of snow-rid- 
 den Canada on the track of moose: a month in which 
 to fight the first battles against old habits, with the 
 strength of a devoted friend at his side, far from old 
 associations, nightmares of interminable electric 
 lights and the battering, nerve-tiring hammer of New 
 York. He had come doggedly out of the shadow, 
 fortified by the inspiration a great love had raised in 
 him. Not that the fight was easy: on the contrary, 
 alone he never would have conquered. He loved, and
 
 THE SALAMANDER 391 
 
 he felt resurrected. He had no fear of the test. The 
 old manhood, sharp and decisive, returned. Some- 
 times, when, on a sleepless night, he had gone trudg- 
 ing, in greatcoat and boots, for miles across frozen 
 sleeping blocks, he would return to her home, gazing 
 up at her window with the adoration of the Magi. 
 For him she was the purest spirit that could exist, 
 without evil without even the power to perceive 
 ugliness. 
 
 He had never again referred to their relations since 
 the unfortunate introduction to his brother. He saw 
 her every day, at every hour, but he guarded strictly 
 the retinue of friendship, putting into this self-disci- 
 pline a fierce pride. The result was that she little di- 
 vined, under the soldier, how deep a love had been 
 kindled. She believed in his gratitude only; but this, 
 to her independent romantic spirit, raised an impos- 
 sible barrier. 
 
 She went to the station with him, alone in the auto- 
 mobile, her hand in his all the way. He did not say 
 a word. She spoke rapidly, and then by fits and 
 starts, wondering at his silence. The truth was, he 
 dared not permit himself a word, for fear of the tor- 
 rent which lay pent up in his soul. Perhaps had the 
 outburst come in one wild moment, it would have 
 frightened her, given her a new insight, satisfied her 
 and awakened in her other sides that craved for ex- 
 pression the sides below the serenity and the tender- 
 ness that were so ready. 
 
 Doctor Lampson met them at the station, shooting a 
 queer little glance at their quiet faces. The train was
 
 392 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 ready, the great iron cavern filled with the monster 
 cries of steam animals, bells ringing, crowds frantic, 
 bundles, trunks, children, babies, rushing by in pande- 
 monium. There was nothing else to do but to say 
 good-by. 
 
 "Better be getting on better be moving!" re- 
 marked Doctor Lampson, in his nervous rough way. 
 "Good-by, Miss Baxter. You're a trump the fin- 
 est of the fine! I'll take care of Garry. He'll come 
 back like a drum-major ! Good-by, good-by God 
 bless you ! Come on now, Garry ; come on." 
 
 He turned obligingly away, shouting orders at a cou- 
 ple of negro porters staggering under valises and gun- 
 cases. She looked up at Garry, a lump in her throat, 
 thrilled through her misty eyes at the victory she had 
 wrought in the erect and confident figure. Would he 
 take her in his arms and kiss her, there, before all the 
 people? She did not care ... it would only be nat- 
 ural after all she had won for him. She did not care 
 . . . perhaps, she longed for this embrace without 
 knowing quite why. 
 
 " Dodo . . ." he began, and then suddenly caught 
 himself, and his great chest rose. He stopped, took 
 her hand, pressed it as though to crush it, did not even 
 seek her eyes, turned and went quickly away. 
 
 " How he reveres me ! " she thought, tears rushing to 
 her eyes. She clung to the iron railing, her handker- 
 chief to her face, a sob in her throat, following the 
 strong figure, which the crowd slowly obliterated. 
 Once she thought he had turned and she waved her 
 white signal feebly not quite certain. It seemed
 
 THE SALAMANDER 395 
 
 supinely in her room, exposed to the ridicule of any 
 chance entrance. He glanced at his watch : forty-five 
 minutes had already elapsed. He started up angrily. 
 No! he would endure no more! The time had come 
 to revolt! He would humble himself no longer; now, 
 at last, he would make an end once and forever! 
 He went down-stairs quietly, and into the parlor. It 
 was as he had surmised she was not there. Only 
 one more lie! Then, resolved, with a feeling of lib- 
 eration, he went up-stairs again, took out paper and 
 envelope, and sat down at her desk, saying to him- 
 self: 
 
 " This is the end, thank God ! She is making a 
 fool of me; I am only ridiculous! Now to finish it! " 
 
 \Yithout phrasing or hesitation, he wrote with 
 rapid furious scratches: 
 
 "My Dear Girl: 
 
 "You have been very clever, and I -have been nothing but a 
 fool, but for once you have gone too farl Thanks; it has 
 opened my eyes ! It is not only that I do not believe one single 
 word you tell me, but that I see what a ridiculous role you have 
 made me play. Don't attempt to invent any new fiction I 
 warn you, I will not see you ! I leave you without the slightest 
 fear for your future. You are quite capable of taking care of 
 yourself. 
 
 " M." 
 
 Prudently he affixed only his initial, sealed the en- 
 velope, and rose, again glancing at his watch. It had 
 been fully an hour and a quarter. 
 
 "If she is not here in five minutes " he began 
 angrily. 
 
 The door flew open, and Dodo rushed into his
 
 396 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 arms. He crushed the envelope clumsily into his 
 pocket, and caught her to him. 
 
 " Ah, hold me strongly ! " she cried, quivering and 
 breathless. " More more ! You are so kind 
 you are so patient with me, Your Honor ! And I have 
 been so cruel. How I must have plagued you ! For- 
 give me ! Forgive me ! Forgive me ! " 
 
 " It's nothing nothing ! ? ' he said, troubled with 
 her embrace, which had never seemed so complete an 
 abnegation, a surrender and a seeking. 
 
 " Oh, I'll make it up to you now ! " she cried, her 
 cheeks wet. 
 
 She clung to him, craving affection, the pain of his 
 clutching arms, the strength of his male body, in a 
 strange impulse, the inconscient seeking from one 
 man what another had roused. Did she know herself 
 to whom she was clinging, or why she had such a wild 
 hunger in her sorrow-racked body? She clung to 
 him, but she did not cry his name!
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 AS January went shivering into the slush and fury 
 of February, and the fatal tenth of March drew 
 nearer, Dodo found herself approaching the great test 
 of her character. All the different dramatizations 
 that she had permitted herself, with her joyful in- 
 stinct toward comedy, suddenly loomed before her, 
 no longer trivial and facile, but reaching into serious- 
 ness, fraught with the elements of tragedy. Impos- 
 sible to describe the fever of emotion into which she 
 now plunged, acting and reacting, perpetually in a 
 whirl, avoiding solitude and rest, trying every im- 
 pulse, frantically proceeding from one flirtation to 
 another, aghast at the necessity which she had im- 
 posed on herself of definitely choosing what her life 
 should be. She was rarely in bed before the wan 
 grays were scurrying in their pallid flight before the 
 dawn, like thieves across the city. She saw the 
 heavy, jangling milk-wagons plodding to their deliv- 
 eries, abhorrent figures combing the refuse of yester- 
 day, groups in rags asleep on iron gratings which sent 
 the warm blast of underground furnaces into 
 the shivering winds. Often, heavy-eyed and vi- 
 brantly awake, returning in singing parties of four 
 or six from long hours of dancing, she came suddenly 
 upon night shifts emerging from their slavery in the 
 
 397
 
 398 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 bowels of the earth, black shadows trooping up from 
 the flare of kerosene lamps, an underworld which 
 stared at the revelers in brutish hostility. 
 
 She consumed the night thus fearing it, avoid 
 ing its quiet reflections, stopping her ears to its whis- 
 pers of rules learned in childhood ; afraid to face God, 
 who, in her simple superstitious faith, was ever per- 
 sonal. She felt that if she did not recall herself to 
 Him, God, who had so much to do, would not notice 
 her. When she returned, she fell at once into pro- 
 found, dream-driven sleep from which she woke at 
 noon, heavy and incredulous, arousing herself into a 
 febrile energy, impatient for the whirling day to 
 start. At the foot of the alcove she had placed an 
 enormous calendar; and each night, on entering, she 
 tore off another sheet counting the days that yet 
 intervened before the coming tenth of March. In the 
 whole room she saw nothing but these looming fig- 
 ures, black against white, marking her little allotted 
 hours. She had so little time left to revel and dare, 
 to skirt the edge of precipices or tease the leaping 
 flames . . . such a little while to be just Dodo. 
 
 The pace she set began to tell on her vitality, to 
 proclaim itself in the hollowing of her cheeks and the 
 strained cords of the neck. Her eyes were never 
 quiet, nor could her body find an instant's repose. 
 Snyder, who had succeeded to Winona's room, per- 
 ceived the danger, as did Massingale; but to the re- 
 monstrances of each Dore would run to the calendar, 
 half laughing, half serious, drumming on it with her 
 little fist, crying :
 
 THE SALAMANDER 399 
 
 " Pretty soon pretty soon. Can't stop now ! 
 Soon it'll be over ! " 
 
 It was not simply three or four intrigues that she 
 drove at once, but a dozen, keeping the threads from 
 tangling, adding new ones each night, for a few days' 
 mystification and abandonment. Yet, despite the 
 nerve-racking and exhaustion, never had she felt so 
 triumphant or known herself so desirable. The city 
 which once had crushed her imagination in the first 
 despair of her arrival, the city which she felt in 
 all its moods, grumbling, defiant, waiting cruelly, 
 submissive or ominous, now rolled before her in a 
 brilliant succession of pleasures, her world and her 
 destiny theater and restaurant, opera and cabaret; 
 and everywhere, in the burst of lights, or languidly 
 sunk in the seduction of music, in the lure of shop- 
 windows was the zest of precious temptations dan- 
 gers that it was an ecstasy to be able to reject. 
 Everything succeeded for her: Massingale, Blood. 
 Sassoon the patient, Gilday, Stacey and dozens of 
 others. She managed as she wished, arranged her 
 day so that they never crossed one another, and yet 
 leaping from one dramatization to another. Never 
 had she felt so confident of the mastery of her desti- 
 nies, so avid of the delicious draft of pleasure. 
 She felt that she was coming to a supreme sacrifice, 
 self-immolation, but that the setting was superb and 
 the climax must be magnificent! 
 
 She adored the reckless threading flight of taxi- 
 cabs through the streets, plunging into sudden open- 
 ings, grinding to hairbreadth stops, rounding abrupt
 
 400 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 corners, tossed and buffeted, skimming into new per- 
 ils. It was all something of herself, her reckless, 
 daring, danger-loving self. Then, there was the tel- 
 ephone, which called to her twenty times a day: she 
 never went to it without a little thrill of anticipation. 
 She adored it as the gambler the rolling ball, this 
 mysterious instrument which, with its startling jan- 
 gle, could change the complexion of a dull and hope- 
 less day and send her swiftly out on some new dare, 
 throbbing with excitement. She appreciated it, too, 
 for its mocking moments of conversation, engage- 
 ments to take or to refuse, laughing excuses or new 
 traps to set; but it was especially this quality of the 
 unexpected she adored, the possibility at the last mo- 
 ment, after a day of calculated planning, to throw 
 everything to the winds, to go rushing off on the haz- 
 ards of the unexpected. During this period her 
 passion for the opera increased : Tristan and Isolde, 
 Boheme, Tosca, Manon she never let a performance 
 of these favorites pass unattended if she could man- 
 age it, hanging breathless on the passionate poignant 
 tragedies at the end, soothed and satisfied, convinced, 
 resolved, saying: 
 
 " Ah, yes ! That is what love is what it must 
 mean ! " 
 
 At such times, if she happened to be with Mas- 
 singale, she would close her eyes, serenely content, 
 her fingers fastened over his hand, clinging, as if her 
 arms were wrapped about him. She was certain now 
 that this w r as the best if only she could bring him 
 to the height she wished, if she could only make him
 
 THE SALAMANDER 401 
 
 rise above the commonplace and know the tragic ec- 
 stasy. She knew now that he loved her; would it be 
 as she wished, great enough to justify the sacrifice 
 she would willingly make to grasp the dream? Per- 
 haps, unconsciously, at the bottom it was necessary 
 for her to know of what he was capable before she 
 could decide what she herself would do. To force 
 him to this was now her one idea ; she was fiercely re- 
 solved that what had started as a casual flirtation 
 should redeem itself in a heroic flame. 
 
 Besides, Massingale had a physical effect over her. 
 In the anticipation of his coming she was always 
 nervous and excited; in his presence always conscious 
 of a feverish magnetized need of drawing closer, of 
 touching his hand, his arm, of the pressure of his 
 shoulder against hers, resisting the impulse to be 
 caught in his arms; and always melancholy and de- 
 pressed on his departure. This empire over her senses 
 was so strong, she was convinced that this was the 
 only way love could show itself. She was glad, at 
 such times, that the day of decision was coming; for 
 if, in her contrary moods, she inflicted torture on him, 
 she, too, knew now what it was to suffer. The strong 
 emotions on which she was living had at last aroused 
 the elemental in her below all the mental hazards of 
 the girl. If she had ever seen him clearly, she could 
 not now. She had so completely visualized him in the 
 image of what she imagined a lover should be that she 
 might have created him herself. 
 
 At an earlier moment Massingale might have per- 
 ceived this ; but he had now drunk too deep of the nar-
 
 402 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 cotic on her lips, and followed too long the firefly 
 lights in her eyes, to distinguish fact from fancy. He 
 saw he could no longer command, and he felt no 
 strength in him to run away. He was resigned to 
 letting her conduct them where she willed. For he, 
 too, was in love with love for the first time in his life; 
 yet it was not a hungry scanning of future horizons, 
 but a profound melancholic reflection over the wasted 
 past. He saw himself young, capable of dreams once 
 more, remembering the hours when he fondly believed 
 in a great destiny ; and this longing, which, against his 
 reason, had fastened him to the young, ardent and 
 graceful girl, had she but divined it, was the same that 
 made Peavey so ridiculous - the yearning back to a 
 stolen youth. 
 
 And Lindaberry? Yes; certainly she thought of 
 him often, but as something she had surrendered, that 
 was not for her rebellious life. It was love, lawless 
 and destructive, which she sought, not that quiet con- 
 tent that rises from the wells of peace and serenity. 
 She was indeed a lawless waif of a law-defying gener- 
 ation, and her mind was set on great flaming sensa- 
 tions, hating conventions and resolved on rebellion. 
 She saw her future in the hands of Massingale, Blainey 
 yes, possibly even Sassoon, if the others should 
 fail; and conscious of the fierceness and selfishness 
 of her desires, she judged herself unworthy of Linda- 
 berry. Once or twice she had paused to consider such 
 a marriage; but the affection for him which she 
 termed friendship, sympathy, pity everything but
 
 THE SALAMANDER 403 
 
 love was so deep that she shrank from the thought 
 of inflicting harm, saying : 
 
 " If I married him, what would come? " 
 For occasionally she looked her image in the face, 
 judging it mercilessly. Dodo married, she believed, 
 would not be Dodo reformed. She would still run 
 after adventures, still hunger for admiration, still be 
 tempted to play with other men many men at once ; 
 and when she saw herself thus, she recoiled at the ruin 
 she might cause him, at the thought of bringing an- 
 other deception into his life, of offering him anything 
 but a complete self. But when his rare letters came 
 she devoured them, and answered them while yet his 
 words were in her ears. Then she thought to her- 
 self, since it could not be, at least she wished she could 
 choose his wife some one who would be worthy of 
 the desperate battle he was fighting, of the big vision 
 that was awakening, of the fineness and the gentle 
 strength which glowed through every page and moved 
 her strongly. 
 
 On the days his letters came, Dore could hardly 
 control herself with Massingale; she was cruel beyond 
 all reason, flying into a temper at the slightest im- 
 agined excuse. Occasionally they brought a reaction 
 against the senseless fever in which she was caught, 
 against these men of pleasure or craving who pursued 
 her; and abruptly, throwing all engagements to the 
 winds, she flung herself back into childhood, in long 
 giggling, romping afternoons with Betty. With Sny- 
 der she never really conversed. Once or twice the
 
 404 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 woman had made as though to open her confidence, 
 but there was something that lay between them, that 
 each was conscious of, that could not be bridged. She 
 had ended by telling her of her adventure with Linda- 
 berry. He had even, once or twice before his de- 
 parture, met Snyder in her room, and disapproved too 
 strongly of the friendship. ' But Massingale was a sub- 
 ject they could not discuss. 
 
 In the last week of February two events of impor- 
 tance occurred. Ida Summers was married, and Mr. 
 Peavey returned. The news of the engagement came 
 to Dodo as a great surprise. In the last month she 
 had seen little of the other Salamanders, except in the 
 confusion of gay parties having no time, and, be- 
 sides, rather avoiding them. Of Winona not the 
 slightest word had come. Miss Pirn, who retained em- 
 battled possession of the trunk, had decided " sus- 
 picions," which Dodo did not share. For her, the 
 worst of all fates had occurred: Winona had retro- 
 ceded, gone back and given up the struggle, overcome. 
 Ida Summers had somehow ceased to drop into the 
 room, or rather their hours no longer coincided. 
 Dodo was correspondingly surprised when, one morn- 
 ing as she was rising heavily and against the spirit, 
 Ida, a vision of youth and health, burst abruptly in on 
 her with the announcement that she was to marry 
 Tony Rex, that the \vedding was for that night, and 
 that Dodo would kindly attend. 
 
 " Knocks you off your feet, eh ? No more sur- 
 prised than I am, Do!" she cried in her exclamatory 
 style. "But, lord! what are you going to do when
 
 THE SALAMANDER 405 
 
 a human detective agency like Tony camps on your 
 trail and shoos all eligibles away ! " 
 
 " Tony Rex ! " said Dodo, with a gasp of astonish- 
 ment. She was studying the brilliant beauty of the 
 girl, wondering to herself if she would ever know what 
 chances she had missed. 
 
 "Tony, God bless him!" 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Can't help myself! He's my kind, and I can't 
 fool him ! " cried Ida. Then she continued enthusias- 
 tically : " I say, Dodo ! I'm tired of all that other 
 crowd the stuffed shirt brigade, you know. What's 
 the use ? I don't belong ! Lord ! I'd rather link my 
 arm in Tony's and trolley it to a hot dog and a glass 
 of beer, where you can talk English, than to stiffen up 
 and act refined with a Sassoon or a Charley-boy, feed- 
 ing me broiled lobster in a gilded caff ! It's not in me. 
 I don't belong thank God ! " 
 
 " Well, I never ! " said Dore clutching a stocking. 
 
 " Now, just a word or two strictly on the Q. T.," 
 resumed Ida anxiously. " Tony is a most hot-headed 
 native ; I think it just as well to cut out all references 
 to a few episodes in the past. Do you get it ? " 
 
 "I do!" 
 
 " He tells me I'm a blue-eyed baby somersaulting 
 through a wicked world, entirely too innocent and frag- 
 ile to understand ahem! If that's what Tony 
 wants, why, God bless him ! I wouldn't have him 
 disturbed for the world ! Besides lord ! Dodo ! 
 I've been an awful fool; such risks whew! I wish 
 one particular party well, ahem! It's to-night, no
 
 406 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 fuss or feathers. That's Tony's way, quick, on the 
 trigger. Gets me. He's got a best man : that'll make 
 a party of four. Little Church Around the Corner, 
 a good blow-out after Mrs. T. Rex! Why don't 
 you do the same, Do? Lord! I feel so happy I 
 could jump fifty feet in the air and bite the feathers 
 out of the lulubird!" 
 
 The marriage was very quiet. The sudden solem- 
 nity of Ida at the last, the proud carriage of Tony 
 Rex, the new sidelong clinging of the young wife to 
 her husband, half protection, half proprietorship, the 
 glow in her eyes, the gay dinner and the trip to the 
 station to wave them Godspeed on their mysterious 
 journey into the new world all this impressed Dodo 
 strongly. At first it seemed a sort of treason : she re- 
 sented Ida's succumbing to the impertinent mastery of 
 Tony Rex Rex, who always, with a shudder re- 
 called to her that other figure who had once, in the 
 forgotten past, domineered likewise over her. But 
 the marriage service in the little chapel, the quiet of 
 the party of four, the feeling of solemnity, the way 
 Ida had turned for her husband's kiss, oblivious of 
 them, had affected her curiously. She scarcely no- 
 ticed the best man at her side. She was thinking of 
 Lindaberry how happy he would be if she should 
 turn to him, if she could feel as Ida did ! Lindaberry 
 was in her thoughts all the evening, and again in her 
 dreams that night. The next day she refused to see 
 Massingale at all. 
 
 Mr. Peavey arrived two days later, and the moment 
 she entered the musty parlor where he was fidgeting
 
 THE SALAMANDER 407 
 
 before the mirror, waiting to take her out, she realized 
 that a crisis was approaching 1 . Luckily, another 
 couple were by the window, impatient for their depar- 
 ture, talking in stilted phrases. Their greeting was 
 therefore formal. 
 
 " Glad to see you ! " 
 
 " Been an age, hasn't it? " 
 
 "Shall we go?" 
 
 They went immediately to his automobile, where it 
 seemed to her that Brennon, the chauffeur, sent her a 
 knowing glance from a malicious eye. 
 
 " I must leave right after for Boston," he said hur- 
 riedly. " I'm sorry, but I'll be back, the end of the 
 week, for good. I broke the trip just to see you 
 first chance." 
 
 " What a lot of traveling you have to do ! " 
 
 " Yes," he assented ; " but it has been worth it. 
 Things have worked out marvelously better than I 
 hoped. In a year I can retire: you've brought me 
 luck! I'll tell you later." 
 
 He stopped, drawing a long breath, frowning but 
 happy. The joy she saw on his face made her guess 
 what he would have to announce, and set her busy im- 
 agination planning for some means to postpone an is- 
 sue. They entered the restaurant of one of the 
 quieter hotels. A table was already reserved, in a se- 
 cluded corner, somewhat removed from the crowd, 
 which had not yet begun to pour in. 
 
 While he busied himself with the ordering, she 
 studied him, seeking some way to escape the proposal 
 that she saw coming, as one sees an inevitable collision
 
 4 o8 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 on a narrow road. Above everything in the world, 
 she wished to prevent a spoken offer. She was sure 
 that, for the present, he did not represent a possibility ; 
 but there were unsounded currents in the future of 
 which she knew nothing. At the bottom there was in 
 her a prudent streak :. she did not like to burn her 
 bridges. Despite all the license she permitted her 
 imagination, there was always back of it all a sober 
 second sense. She wished to keep him as a friend un- 
 til she was at least certain of other things even 
 perhaps as a refuge, if that were possible, for what- 
 ever turn fate might play her in the coming years. 
 
 She was not quite certain that it was possible to 
 achieve this tour de force, but she intended to try ; for, 
 curiously enough, she doubted Massingale not so much 
 now, in the impulses of his infatuation, but beyond, in 
 the hazardous months that must succeed. Up to the 
 present she had two refuges ; Blainey, who would con- 
 tinue steadfast, and Peavey, who was a problem. 
 They had always been fixed points in her moments of 
 greatest recklessness. Youth was a madness; but, 
 after that, what? And whom to lean upon? With 
 these thoughts in mind, she looked at Peavey's honest 
 simple features with a feeling of tenderness and won- 
 der. If the end of the romance were tragedy and 
 disillusion, would he forgive her? Would she find 
 there the charity 
 
 " I owe you an explanation, Miss Baxter," Peavey 
 began abruptly. Then he hesitated, and rearranged 
 the knives and forks. " Your letter caused me great
 
 THE SALAMANDER 409 
 
 pain the greatest ! I would have come back in- 
 stantly, if it had been possible without sacrificing things 
 I had set my heart on." 
 
 " I was very much surprised ; hurt, too ! " she said 
 gravely. " I have always thought of you well, as 
 different, don't you know ? " 
 
 He bit his lip, and brought the knives over to the 
 forks. 
 
 " I hope you didn't misjudge me? " 
 
 " I didn't know what to think ! " 
 
 "I I don't quite know how to explain. I did 
 not realize Miss Homing's character. She confessed 
 to me that she was in want; I thought of her as your 
 friend." 
 
 "And you helped her?" she said, instantly alert. 
 
 " It was not much." 
 
 " It is true," she said seriously, " I introduced Wi- 
 nona to you. She has been a great deception to me, 
 too. But why did you keep on seeing her without 
 saying anything to me? Nothing wrong in it, but 
 why hide it? That's what wounded me." 
 
 "Of course," he said miserably, " that was wrong. 
 I don't know how it came " 
 
 " Sympathy? " she suggested, with a smile. 
 
 " I was sorry for her." 
 
 " She wished you to marry her, didn't she? " 
 
 " No, it was not that ! It was quite different ! " 
 he said, and his face crimsoned, while the knives were 
 transferred hastily back to the right. He drew a long 
 painful breath. " It's something very disagree-
 
 4 io THE SALAMANDER 
 
 able something I can't talk to you about ! All I 
 wish to say is, for your own good, Miss Miss Horn- 
 ing is not a proper friend for you." 
 
 " She has been gone almost two months ! " she said 
 quietly. " Very well ; we won't say anything more. 
 You are too generous, too warm-hearted, Mr. Peavey ! 
 Tell me about what you've been doing." 
 
 Her doubts had been suddenly confirmed, but it gave 
 her a sudden feeling of horror as she thought of the 
 desperation to which Winona must have been driven 
 to have ( attempted such a stroke. Then she was 
 afraid of the opening into sentiment which she saw be- 
 fore her, and changed the subject quickly, but, unfor- 
 tunately, to her disadvantage. 
 
 " I have carried through a great merger of our in- 
 terests," he said, his face lighting up. " The last 
 formalities will be completed to-night, in Boston. It 
 will be" he stopped, not daring to look at her 
 " very profitable. In a year I shall be, not a very rich 
 man, but quite rich yes, quite rich, even as things 
 go to-day ! My intention then is to retire, to travel, to 
 see the great cities of the world. I don't care for 
 money myself, except well, to give everything pos- 
 sible in the world to the person I care for." 
 
 He was speaking 'rapidly now, staring directly be- 
 fore him at her hand, which was playing with the 
 glass. She looked about in terror. The near tables 
 were vacant; they were still practically isolated. In 
 another moment it would be all over. The arrival of 
 the second course momentarily saved her. She plied 
 him with questions, signaling the waiter on a dozen
 
 THE SALAMANDER 411 
 
 invented pretexts whenever the conversation turned 
 to an intimate note. But at the end of the luncheon, 
 as if overburdened with the strain of a great secret, 
 resolved to end the torture, he said abruptly: 
 
 " Miss Baxter, it was not simply to explain I came 
 here ; I want to talk to you very seriously, on a matter 
 that is everything in the world to " 
 
 She drew back suddenly as if frightened, and her 
 hand, apparently by accident, coming in contact with 
 her glass, sent it tumbling over the table, drenching 
 the cloth, amid a clatter of cutlery. The maitre 
 d' hotel came running immediately to her rescue, napkin 
 in hand. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! how awkward I am ! " she cried, in 
 great confusion. 
 
 "It's nothing nothing!" Peavey said hastily, 
 reproaching himself for having frightened her by the 
 abruptness of his methods, here in a crowded restau- 
 rant. 
 
 But when they had gone into the anteroom, he said 
 quickly : 
 
 " Miss Baxter, will you come into the salon here, 
 or up-stairs? For a quarter of an hour a few mo- 
 ments, just a second I must speak to you. Now 
 at once please ! " 
 
 There was no escape; she resigned herself to fol- 
 lowing him. But as she entered the green-and-gold 
 desert where intimacy could no longer be avoided, she 
 thought to herself: 
 
 "Oh, dear! If I had only knocked it over my 
 dress I could have gone right home! "
 
 412 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 In twenty minutes it was all over, and very red, 
 very quiet, he had conducted her to his car and sent 
 her off. 
 
 " I'm sorry ! " she said, distressed at his pathetic 
 figure. 
 
 " Such things can't be helped! " he said, with a clos- 
 ing of the jaws. 
 
 " But let's be friends, can't you ? Just now I'm 
 so young still later Please let's be friends, Mr. 
 Peavey ! " 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " I'm afraid that's too hard, and I don't think 
 you'll ever change ! " 
 
 " I have been honest ! " she said sadly which was 
 true, in a measure. 
 
 "Very!" 
 
 He shook her hand with an exaggerated bow, sig- 
 naled the chauffeur and went back. 
 
 All at once she had a feeling of utter loneliness and 
 abandonment. He had been something so secure in 
 her life, so dependable. To give him up was more 
 of a wrench than she had imagined. It brought her 
 a curious sense of peril. Would he wait, as she had 
 suggested, or would this be the end, the last glimpse 
 she would have of this strong, solitary, devoted soul? 
 
 She jumped out hastily at Miss Pirn's, and then 
 stopped to consider. 
 
 "Want me this evening?" said Brennon, watching 
 her attentively. 
 
 " I don't know yes I'll telephone." 
 
 " Everything all right ? " he asked slyly.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 413 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she said, frowning and sur- 
 prised. 
 
 " Oh, nothing ! " he said noisily. Then he leaned 
 forward, his eyes fixed boldly, covetously on her. " I 
 say, when you've got an open date, why not come joy- 
 riding with me ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " She drew back, stung to the quick of her 
 pride. 
 
 He misunderstood her action, perhaps. Shrugging 
 his shoulders, he went on : 
 
 " Why not? I'm as good a spender as some of the 
 high-rollers ! " 
 
 " How dare you ? " she cried, blushing hot under his 
 look. "What do you think I am? Go with you!" 
 
 " You needn't be so particular ! " he said, angry in 
 his turn at her contempt. " A chauffeur's not a serv- 
 ant. And I guess I've kept your secrets, young lady ! " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Look here ! I'm no fool ! Don't you think I 
 know your game? Don't you think I got on to the 
 brother racket that night? All right! Don't get in 
 a huff! What've I done? Invited you out! What 
 are you turning up your nose at me for? Come, 
 now!" 
 
 He had ended in it conciliatory tone, smiling at her 
 indignant face with undisguised admiration. 
 
 " Brennon, that's enough ! I shan't want you, now 
 or ever! Mr. Peavey shall hear of this! " 
 
 " Oh, will he ? " he said, with an ugly look. " Then 
 he'll hear of a good deal more! What are you but 
 a "
 
 414 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 She gave a cry of shame at the word he flung out 
 in anger, and rushed into the house, utterly crushed 
 and revolted, wounded as she had never been before in 
 all her life. The whole day had been one of blank 
 defeat. Now with her body smarting as if from a 
 blow, broken in spirit, clinging to the window- frame, 
 she had a sudden ominous chill. It seemed as if in a 
 twinkle everything had changed for her that all 
 that had been so rosy and brilliant before, was now be- 
 come grim and black ; that everything had been broken 
 up; that, one by one, all would fall away. 
 
 And, as if her cup of bitterness were not full, in her 
 mail she found the one letter she had dreaded for 
 months : 
 
 " All over and I've won out, Flossie ! Whew ! Three months 
 ago things looked so squally, I couldn't even write. If I'd gone 
 under, I'd just have quietly dropped out, and, Kid, you'd nevef 
 known what had hit me ! But, bless the luck, I'm It ! 
 Clear the tracks for me ! I'm coming East with the bells on ! 
 Listen ! Six thousand eight hundred fifty-two dollars in the 
 bank, salted away. Prospects, sixteen karat fine. Got a 
 cracker-jack proposition; six cinematograph shows, one-fifth 
 interest. In a year, Flossie, it's a gasoline buggy for you! 
 I'm beating it to you, hot-foot. One stop in Des Moines to pick 
 up some easy money, and me for the gay White Way ! Watch 
 for me about March fourteenth. Say, we're going to be 
 rich, and don't you forget it! It's all for you, bless your 
 pretty eyes! Do I love you? Well, say! I'm sitting up, talk- 
 ing to your little photo, foolish as a kid ! I'm daffy about 
 you. If you're still strong for Josh, why, set the date. Go the 
 limit on the clothes the best isn't too good for you! Don't 
 keep me waiting, and don't go for to tease me, honey, for my 
 heart's been true to you ! 
 
 " JOSH. 
 
 " P. S. If you've got any foolish thinks in your sassy head
 
 THE SALAMANDER 415 
 
 that you care for any cane-bearing dude, dismiss them! You 
 don't ! Sweep the porch and cut the hammock-strings. Don't 
 fool yourself one minute we're the team!" 
 
 She gave a cry of horror. The worst had come! 
 The past was rising up to claim her, stretching out its 
 cruel tentacles to drag her back, as it had done to 
 Winona. How could she escape him? What could 
 she say to him, after all these months of weak post- 
 ponement? If only she could stop him by a letter or 
 a telegram ! But there was no address. All she knew 
 was that somewhere, out on the cold brown sky-line, 
 he was hurrying toward her, resolute, confident, a ter- 
 ribly earnest lover. All that night, in the midst of 
 hideous dreams, where Brennon pursued her with his 
 vindictive grin, she had the feeling of something ad- 
 vancing over the horizon, black, swelling like a tor- 
 nado, roaring toward her, obscuring everything with 
 its expanding darkness.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 IN a twinkling, from the heights of triumphant 
 pleasure, Dodo found herself plunged into pro- 
 foundest dejection. It seemed as if everything must 
 turn against her, that there could be no end to the de- 
 feats that were to pile up. At the end of the week 
 a curt farewell letter came from Mr. Peavey, in which 
 she believed she divined the hand of Brennon. For 
 the first time, too, she felt the clammy touch of pov- 
 erty. In the last months, unperceived, the props had 
 dropped away, one by one. She had been foolish, ex- 
 travagant. She had wanted to be as well dressed in 
 the eyes of Massingale as the women of his world. 
 She had sold, through Zip, the furs Stacey had given 
 her, for the exigencies of the wardrobe. Trip by 
 trip, she had gone into the shadow of the pawn-broker, 
 sacrificing the silver toilet set, Sassoon's bracelet, the 
 vanity-box, earrings, brooches, every convertible thing, 
 until only two remained Judge Massingale's brace- 
 let, and the ring that Lindaberry had placed on her fin- 
 ger as a troth. 
 
 When Peavey's automobile had been withdrawn, she 
 had tried Gilday, only to find him out of tow r n. When 
 she had sought to bring Stacey back into the fold of 
 the faithful, she found that his allegiance had been 
 transferred. He came once to take her to luncheon, 
 but it was out of a sentiment for the past, and a need 
 
 416
 
 THE SALAMANDER 417 
 
 of unbosoming himself. She listened with a little 
 lonely feeling to his rhapsodies about another girl, 
 and when it was over she made no attempt to recall 
 him. The time was too short to seek out other al- 
 liances: she resigned herself to going on foot. It 
 gave her a curious sensation, as if she were suddenly 
 bankrupt as if she were slipping back. 
 
 Nebbins had written that he would come on the 
 fourteenth, but she had a vague dread that he might 
 turn up any day. She never let herself into Miss 
 Pirn's hall now that she did not glance apprehensively 
 at the musty shadows of the parlor, fearing to see the 
 brisk red-headed apparition of Josh Nebbins. 
 
 Doctor Lampson returned the end of February and 
 she went to his office for news of Garry. But at the 
 sight of her, pale and restless, he had exclaimed : 
 
 " Great heavens ! What have you been doing ? 
 You look like the ghost of yourself! " 
 
 " I've been worrying," she said quickly. 
 
 " Don't ! Does no good ! Besides, Garry's all 
 right : he's coming out of it with flying colors ! Hello ! 
 I almost forgot. Here's a letter for you," he added, 
 with a twinkle in his eyes. 
 
 Dore took the letter, holding it without opening it. 
 
 " How long will he stay ? " she asked quietly. 
 
 " I rather think he'll turn up here before the tenth," 
 said Lampson, still enjoying his joke. 
 
 " He ought to stay longer, doctor ! " she said, with 
 a sinking feeling. 
 
 " Of course, but he won't! I can't imagine what it 
 is ; he seems to be fond of that date."
 
 418 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " It's my birthday ! " she said, gazing at the rug, 
 longing to take him into her confidence. 
 
 " Then you'd better get the roses back in your 
 cheeks ! " said the doctor briskly. " What do you 
 think of these snapshots? Garry's more beautiful 
 than I am, but I landed the first moose. Take 'em 
 along!" 
 
 He put in her hand a dozen photographs, accom- 
 panying her to the door with the cordial respect he 
 had shown her ever since that afternoon when she 
 had indignantly disclaimed the engagement. There 
 he took her hand in a fatherly way : 
 
 " Miss Baxter, you've one life to your credit, bless 
 you! I didn't think it possible! You've got a better 
 medicine than I have ! " 
 
 When she went home, she sat a long while, staring 
 at the curious figures in snow-shoes and sweaters ; but 
 she did not open the letter. She knew that he would 
 return for the tenth, and yet the news upset her ter- 
 ribly. If she shrank from the necessity of telling 
 Nebbins the truth, this was nothing to the dread she 
 had of Lindaberry's being present. She had hoped, 
 almost against hope, that he would stay away for 
 months; that, as he regained his self-control, the feel- 
 ing he had for her would quiet down into a sense of 
 profound gratitude only, which would leave him not 
 too long miserable at her flight. 
 
 She took up the envelope again, hesitated, ran her 
 fingers along the edge, and glanced at the first page. 
 Almost at once she rose, with a catching of the throat, 
 thrust the letter back into the envelope and locked
 
 THE SALAMANDER 419 
 
 it in her trunk. Then she went hurriedly, blindly, 
 to seek Massingale in court, a thing 1 she seldom did. 
 All that evening she was very quiet, very clinging with 
 him, studying him with wide serious eyes. 
 
 One day at the end of the first week in March, the 
 boarding-house was thrown into a state of violent ex- 
 citement : Winona Horning had returned, paid Miss 
 Pirn, tipped Josephus the enormous sum of five dollars, 
 left an address near the park for her trunk, and de- 
 parted, after an abrupt answer to Miss Pirn's exclama- 
 tory questions, saying that she had received a small 
 legacy. The truth was discovered an hour later by 
 Josephus, who personally delivered the trunk at an im- 
 pressive apartment in the West Eighties. Winona 
 was there under the name of Mrs. Sampson, and the 
 automobile at the door belonged to Mr. Gilday. The 
 next morning a letter came by messenger which left 
 no further doubt in Dodo's mind : 
 
 "Dear old Dodo: 
 
 " You'll know the truth by this time. Don't waste any sympathy 
 over me! I don't care the other was worse! I couldn't go 
 back and starve ! Don't blame Joe, either ; it's all my doing ! I 
 suppose the girls will say terrible things about me. The Duchess 
 told me Ida's married: I'm glad of it. Dodo, I wish I could 
 see you some day, just to talk to, but I suppose that's impossible. 
 Remember what I say only I hope it won't ever happen ! if 
 things ever go bad with you, and you're dead up against it, 
 come to me ! What you've been to me I never can forget ! 
 Perhaps now you can even forgive me about Mr. Peavey. I 
 was desperate ! Don't refuse the hundred dollars I send you in 
 this. It'll hurt me terribly and I owe you every cent of it, 
 on my word of honor! Good-by, Dodo. You've got more 
 chances than I had ; only don't make mistakes ! 
 
 " WINONA (Mrs. Edgar Sampson.)"
 
 420 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " P. S. Now, whatever you do, don't get teary about me. It 
 isn't necessary. I don't care in the least now ! That's hon- 
 est!" 
 
 Inclosed was a bank-note of a hundred dollars. 
 The sight of this money coining from such a source 
 brought to Dodo a sudden horror akin to the smarting 
 shame she had experienced at Brennon's insulting ad- 
 vances. She went out hastily to lunch, alone, to that 
 mediocre noisy restaurant on Lexington Avenue where 
 she had gone so miserably on the night of her first 
 meeting with Massingale, Sassoon and Lindaberry. 
 There, in the quiet of a corner, she took out the let- 
 ter and reread it. Her first thought was to rush to 
 Winona and take her in her arms. No; certainly she 
 had nothing in her heart now but charity. 
 
 How well she understood the horror of returning 
 into the old ! Why should not a woman have the right 
 to progress, to free herself from hateful surroundings? 
 Why should it be so difficult for a woman, when it was 
 so easy for a man? Why should she only be forced 
 to the wall? In the bare room, lighted by feeble cur- 
 tained windows, she saw this other life from which she 
 too had emerged, to which she was resolved never to 
 return, but which frightened her now as a possibility. 
 How tired and pinched these men and women were 
 who surrounded her! And the women, how bare of 
 coquetry and charm ! Even the young men who clus- 
 tered in a corner, talking languidly, had a tired air of 
 being already middle-aged! 
 
 Her next impulse was to warn Winona of her inse- 
 curity: for she had read Gilday without illusions, and
 
 THE SALAMANDER 421 
 
 if five months ago she had perceived what he would be 
 to-day, she saw now the man of to-morrow, undis- 
 turbed by sentiment or weakness, avid of experience 
 and sensation, an egoist soon evolved, who would 
 never deviate from his own desires from any feeling 
 of remorse or pity. She felt that his attachment could 
 not last. She must warn Winona, open her eyes, pre- 
 pare her for the worst! She went from the lunch- 
 room with this one thought in mind. Only, as the 
 interview would be difficult, and she did not quite yet 
 know what to counsel, she began to wander aimlessly 
 through the streets, gusty with the rage of March. 
 
 The figure of Winona haunted her, rising like an ac- 
 cusing specter against her conscience. If only she had 
 understood in time! She saw her always weak and 
 irresolute, obstinately shrugging her shoulders, her 
 brow clouded over rebellious and foredoomed. 
 Again she revolted at the different destinies of the 
 sexes, with a hot indignant anger. Why should the 
 woman be cut off from all friendships, and not the 
 man? Would it make any difference to Gilday's 
 friends, or change his position in the slightest? That 
 was the injustice of it all. And who was unjust? 
 Her own sex! 
 
 "No! She needs a friend more than ever!" she 
 said resolutely. - " I'll go to her now this instant ! " 
 
 All at once, by one of the perversities of the city, as, 
 come to the thoroughfare of Fifth Avenue, she was 
 halted and crowded against the curb, a great automo- 
 bile came swinging about the corner, with Gilday at 
 the wheel, Adele Vickers and two men behind, and in
 
 422 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 front, laughing and elegant, Winona Horning. They 
 flashed by without even seeing her, standing on the 
 sidewalk, elbowed by the common crowd. She had 
 but a glimpse of the girl who had shared her wall in 
 Miss Pirn's boarding-house; but the glimpse she had 
 caught of the butterfly that had emerged from the 
 grub tore down her last illusions. She it was who was 
 left standing, depressed, struggling against the buffet- 
 ing busy crowd, feeling all ; at once deserted and 
 shoddy. 
 
 Until now she had never experienced the slightest 
 temptation in regard to Sassoon. She had never de- 
 ceived herself on that point, for she had a horror of 
 ugliness, and it was not money, but romance, which 
 she wished to force from life in this ardent fleeting 
 period of her youth. Sassoon awoke, not her cu- 
 pidity, but her curiosity. It was an unexplored world, 
 and she was anxious to perceive its proportions. 
 What would he do under strong provocation, and 
 what, at least, would it mean to her if she were dif- 
 ferently inclined ? Besides, his docile attitude had dis- 
 armed her prudence : she believed in her control over 
 him. 
 
 But to-day, one in the multitude that moved, heavy 
 of foot and weary of heart, through the great shop- 
 lit thoroughfares, she felt in a peculiarly vulnerable 
 moment. She had been walking for hours in the ef- 
 fort to tire her brain, afraid to seek out Massingale 
 for fear that another deception was awaiting her, be- 
 ginning more and more to doubt that anything but 
 empty dreams would ever come. This physical weari-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 423 
 
 ness into which she had forced herself had brought a 
 profound moral lassitude. She felt perilously near 
 the point of surrender. At times she had a desire to 
 take train and escape to somewhere unknown, to recon- 
 struct everything from the bottom up. Ida's mar- 
 riage, the departure of Winona, affected her in differ- 
 ent ways. What better chance had she to struggle 
 against the crushing weight of an implacable city? 
 After all, was not Ida right? Did she really belong? 
 How long could she endure in this rarefied air? At 
 bottom, what did all these men really think of her 
 even Massingale? Did one of them consider her in 
 equality ? 
 
 Never had she felt the bruising brutality of New 
 York so much as she did this evening, wandering 
 aimlessly from shop to shop. What was the use of 
 struggling against these enormous forces, that could 
 reckon all emotions, joy or sorrow, love or despair, 
 only in tens of thousands ? What difference, after all, 
 did it really make what became of her in this huge 
 maelstrom of New York? Who would notice, and 
 who would remember for more than a few hours, what 
 came to one girl in the hundreds of thousands? 
 
 In her pocket was the money Winona had sent, 
 from which her fingers had retreated in horror. Yet 
 now no such sensation came to her. She was very 
 tired, weary of the struggle, of being on foot, of de- 
 feat, of the contamination of poverty, of resisting 
 temptation which could be so easily squared with her 
 conscience. There was one particular shop-window 
 past which she had gone a dozen times a window
 
 424 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 in which was a dress she coveted, all gold and black, 
 the color men preferred on her, a dress she could have 
 so easily for the mere acceptance of the offer about 
 which her ringers clung. And, after all, it was but 
 money returned, not a gift. 
 
 She was hovering before the fatal window for the 
 tenth time, cold with the approach of darkness and the 
 lack of the furs which had had to be surrendered, 
 when suddenly Sassoon appeared at her side from 
 some current of the crowd. She felt him at her 
 shoulder, silently studying her, striving to seize her 
 secret thought, and she started as if he were an appari- 
 tion of the devil himself. 
 
 " How long have you been here ? " she asked hastily. 
 
 " Four minutes five," he said, shaking hands 
 elaborately. " Well, what do you want ? " 
 
 " Everything in the window ! " she replied angrily. 
 
 " May I send them to you ? " 
 
 This made her angrier still. She shrugged her 
 shoulders and glanced at her watch. 
 
 " Take me to tea somewhere ! " 
 
 " A little run in the country? " 
 
 "I don't care!" 
 
 He put her into his automobile with an eagerness 
 she did not notice, so delighted was she by the sense of 
 escape from mediocrity which the elegance and ease 
 of the car brought her. He considered a moment, 
 and then, with a word to his chauffeur, followed her. 
 
 " Where are we going? " 
 
 " I thought it would be something different to run 
 down a way toward Coney Island."
 
 THE SALAMANDER 425 
 
 " I don't care." 
 
 "Blue?" 
 
 She nodded, her head turned to the flying shops, the 
 cross streets, and the maze of traffic at her side. He 
 put out his hand to take hers, but she stopped him with 
 a warning finger. 
 
 " None of that, Mr. Sassoon ! " 
 
 " I had no thought " 
 
 '' Yes, I know; but you know the conditions! " 
 
 "Why are you blue?" he asked, checking himself. 
 "Getting near the tenth?" 
 
 "That's it!" 
 
 " And you haven't made up your mind yet ? " he 
 said slowly. 
 
 " How can I ? " she said, with an irritable move- 
 ment of her foot. 
 
 " Don't forget that I have something to say to you 
 before you decide," he said quietly. 
 
 " It will do you no good ! " 
 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 
 "Quite!" 
 
 " Sure there is nothing I could offer you that would 
 mean anything? " 
 
 "Quite!" 
 
 But, though she repeated the word with extra em- 
 phasis, she felt all at once the beginning of a danger- 
 ous curiosity. After all, was there nothing he could 
 offer her, who had gone so long, tired of foot and 
 discouraged of heart, that might not cause her to 
 pause and at least experience a regret for an enor- 
 mous sum, something fantastic, which no man would
 
 426 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 offer? Yet the idea entered into her imagination and 
 stimulated it. How many women would hesitate be- 
 fore a sum so great that it made no difference what 
 people said? From which she began to wonder what 
 might be her price to this experienced connoisseur, 
 who had estimated and bought so many of her sex; 
 Yes, what was his estimate of her resistance? This 
 awoke a zest which soon dominated the lassitude of the 
 afternoon. She must learn this price: it would be 
 more than exciting. 
 
 All at once they seemed lifted above the city, soar- 
 ing upward past the last sinking roofs, cleaving into 
 clear air. They were on the great Williamsburg 
 Bridge, the river far below, strewn with dusky mov- 
 ing shapes setting out faint lamps against the darken- 
 ing day. Across the river gusts of steam or belching 
 smoke thickened the. gray horizon. Factories, come 
 down like animals to drink at the riverside, stood 
 in naked profile against the sky, pointing their rigid 
 towers toward the stars, sending occasional flaming 
 blasts across reddening lines of window-panes. Be- 
 low, like the magic of invisible sprites, the jeweled 
 strands of Brooklyn Bridge were flinging a brilliant 
 span across the gulf of the night. About them, de- 
 liriously below, were the thousand waking eyes of mys- 
 terious hours, starting from the regimented lamp-posts 
 that cut the city into squares of black. All about 
 them was that day of the city which is the creation of 
 man, which he has created in the need of forgetful- 
 ness, of doubling the span of his few allotted years in 
 a sort of Promethean revolt. The day often op-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 427 
 
 pressed her the night never. She sat up, smiling 
 and alert, and as if for the first time taking notice of 
 where she was and where she was going, asked : 
 
 "What time is it?" 
 
 " Half past five only." 
 
 But she began to feel a menace in this other bank 
 which they were nearing, in these long stretches of 
 human wilderness leading to the sound. Sassoon was 
 entirely too docile, she did not know why, but she 
 scented danger in the air. 
 
 " We will go back," she said suddenly. " Brooklyn 
 is too dreary; besides, it's late for tea." 
 
 " I'm sorry," he said, stirring in his seat ; " I'm 
 afraid you don't trust me? " 
 
 " No, I don't not too far ! " 
 
 " Supposing I decided to go on ? " he said quickly. 
 
 " I should open the window and scream," she said, 
 handing him the tube. 
 
 He complied reluctantly, seeking an excuse. 
 
 " It'll only take us twenty minutes. I wanted you 
 to get the effect of New York coming back ; in another 
 half-hour it'll be magnificent! " 
 
 " I'll enjoy it very much now," she answered, laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 '' You quite misjudge me," he said, without further 
 trace of irritation. " However, as you wish. I saw 
 you were blue, and I had planned something to dis- 
 tract you. But it's no use." 
 
 " What had you planned ? " she said maliciously. 
 * To take you to a very nice party." 
 
 "What?"
 
 428 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " A supper with some interesting people Emma 
 Fornez, Sada Quichy " 
 
 " Where ? " she said suspiciously. 
 
 " At the Cafe Loo." 
 
 "Where's that?" 
 
 " In Harlem." 
 
 She reflected. She had expected him to give the 
 name of some inn in the country where she would not 
 venture; but Harlem reassured her. Perhaps the 
 party existed, and, if so, she was crazy to meet Emma 
 Fornez, of the Metropolitan Opera. Besides, she felt 
 in a reckless mood, within certain safe limitations. 
 
 " If you asked me very nicely," she said softly, 
 " you might be surprised " 
 
 An hour later they came to a stop before a restau- 
 rant flanked with plants and shining with the dazzle. 
 of reflecting mirrors. It was of new creation, on the 
 order of the German Gardens, situated on one of the 
 great thoroughfares, a publicity which quite reassured 
 her. They went in by a private entrance, and up in an 
 elevator to a suite on the third floor. 
 
 " We're ahead of time," said Sassoon. " Dressing- 
 room to the left. Leave your things there." 
 
 The room into which they had entered from an 
 ante-chamber was a salon in false Empire furniture 
 against plum-yellow carpets and hangings. Through 
 a curtained door to the right was a glimpse of a din- 
 ing-room in the corner of the house. She took in the 
 surroundings with a quick glance as she went into the 
 boudoir. What she had suspected was true. The 
 party was an invention. She was alone with Sassoon.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 SHE was not the least afraid, nor, in fact, was she 
 ^^ unprepared for the discovery. When Sassoon 
 had tempted her with the prospects of a party, she was 
 not altogether his dupe. Yet, under safe conditions, 
 she was disposed, to-night, to grant him the intimacy 
 of a tete-a-tete. She knew that he had never yet said 
 to her what he wanted, and she had a great curiosity 
 to know what he would hold before her eyes. The re- 
 spectability of the crowd seen through the brilliant 
 windows, the publicity of the position, all reassured 
 her that there could be no trap beyond the powers of 
 her ingenuity. She examined the dressing-room has- 
 tily. Besides the door that gave on to the salon, there 
 were two others one, which was locked, to a farther 
 suite, and a second, opening into the ante-chamber. 
 
 She went to the window and looked down on the 
 flattened crowd flowing like inky pools under the phos- 
 phorescent arc-lights; the scurrying roofs of automo- 
 biles, darting across the lighted trolleys, calculating 
 the effect of a cry. Then she opened the door into 
 the ante-chamber, hesitating. It would be the easiest 
 thing in the world to leave now, without noise, while 
 Sassoon was busy with the ordering. But curiosity 
 was strong, and the need of a sensation of a tri- 
 umph over danger, which would give back that old 
 audacity that had almost departed in these last bit- 
 
 429
 
 430 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 ter days. She bit her lip thoughtfully, hesitated a mo- 
 ment, and then, tiptoeing quietly to the outer door, re- 
 moved the key, assuring herself that there were no 
 bolts to fasten it. It might be the last escapade, per- 
 haps the last time that she would baffle him. The tenth 
 was only three days away and in the need of setting 
 the stage for her final climax she felt the need, sud- 
 denly, of carrying this motive up to the brink yes, 
 even of calmly looking over. 
 
 She left her hat with her coat in the dressing-room, 
 and came out confidently, her hands on her hips, which 
 swayed slightly in the languorous movement of the 
 Spanish indolence, mockery in her eyes. 
 
 " No one here yet? " she asked unconcernedly. 
 
 " Not seven," he replied, glancing at his watch. 
 
 " Artists are always late ! " 
 
 He assented, watching her. 
 
 "This the dining-room?" she said, moving to the 
 right. 
 
 "Wait!" 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " I want to give you a surprise." 
 
 " I know it already ! " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " There's no party at all ; we're dining together," 
 she said, looking at him directly. " Don't lie. Be- 
 sides, I knew it all the time ! " 
 
 " What ? " he said amazed. 
 
 "Naturally! Do you think I would be here if I 
 didn't want to be? Well, to-night, then, is the big 
 temptation ? I hope you'll be very interesting ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 431 
 
 | 
 
 " So you knew ! " he said, pursing his lips. 
 
 " You're disappointed because I'm not afraid ! " she 
 told him, laughing. " Well, I'm not ! Besides, I have 
 taken my precautions ! " 
 
 "What do you mean?" he asked uneasily. 
 
 " There's a door from the dressing-room into the 
 vestibule you gave me plenty of time," she said 
 quietly. " There happened to be a party I knew be- 
 low when we came in, or we would not be here. They 
 are to take me home later." 
 
 " You went down " he said slowly, at a loss 
 whether to believe her or not. She nodded, and still 
 incredulous, he went to the dressing-room, assuring 
 himself that she had at least spoken the truth about the 
 door. 
 
 " Well ? " she said, folding her arms and laughing 
 at him, but feeling every nerve and fiber alert with the 
 sense of combat. 
 
 " Miss Baxter," he answered, standing by her and 
 fastening his heavy oriental gaze on hers, " I have 
 never, in all my life, wanted a woman as I want you! " 
 
 " I hope so ! " 
 
 "Don't you know that?" 
 
 " It's the devil in me, then." 
 
 'The devil and the child," he said quietly. 
 
 She didn't like his look, so she motioned him away, 
 saying: 
 
 " Something to eat first, please, and business later." 
 
 " With any other woman I would understand that," 
 he said, without shifting his gaze. 
 
 " Perhaps I am simpler than you think ? "
 
 432 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Let's go in to dinner ! " he said abruptly. 
 
 He went to the curtain and drew it aside deferen- 
 tially. She went past him quickly, watching him 
 from under her eyelashes, choosing that seat at the 
 table which would give her quick retreat in case of 
 need. The waiter, bald and correctly vacant of ex- 
 pression, arrived after a discreet knock, and with the 
 swinging of the door came a sudden burst of laughter 
 from an arriving party. She waved away the prof- 
 fered cocktail. 
 
 "Nothing? "he asked. 
 
 " At such an important interview ? Of course 
 not!" 
 
 He raised his glass to her honor, and she nodded. 
 
 " You don't look so terrible, after all," she said, 
 examining him with a critical smile; and to herself 
 she said disdainfully, as she had said another time: 
 "If this is a dangerous man, what is it makes him 
 dangerous ? " 
 
 But this query was not simply of amusement. The 
 seriousness of life had so obtruded itself upon her, in 
 the last preparatory weeks, that she wanted to know 
 everything, to have before her in detail that existence 
 which could depend on his soft hands and wearied 
 eyes. 
 
 " So I puzzle you very much? " 
 
 " You know you do ! " he said, with a slow smile, 
 still resolved to continue the role of bon enfant. 
 
 " Most women are simpler, then? " 
 
 " Much ! " 
 
 " And how do you do ? " she said, her elbows on
 
 THE SALAMANDER 433 
 
 the table, leaning forward eagerly. " Just say flatly, 
 ' How much?'" 
 
 He ran a lean finger through the mounting mus- 
 tache, smiling. 
 
 "Usually, yes!" 
 
 " And they all have their price ? " 
 
 " Not all, no ; but all that I want," he answered 
 frankly. 
 
 " That must be quite exciting the estimating, I 
 mean," she said, to draw him out. " Imagine looking 
 at a woman and saying : ' This one will cost me a 
 thousand, this one ten thousand, and this one will be 
 very, very expensive.' It must be quite amusing to 
 see if you guess right! " 
 
 "Very amusing >yes." 
 
 " Sassoon, what's my price ? " she asked abruptly. 
 
 " I didn't say you had one." 
 
 " You said all women you wanted." 
 
 " Miss Baxter," he said slowly, " you began this 
 conversation." 
 
 " Yes and let's drop all pretenses ; let's talk to 
 each other, since we are here. Let me know you as 
 you really are. I wish it ! " 
 
 " Very well ! " he said, pleased. He rested his el- 
 bows likewise on the table, scanning his left hand, 
 turning the great emerald ring that adorned it. " I 
 believe every woman has her price, under certain con- 
 ditions: first, that you know the need of money, and, 
 most important, that you are old enough to understand 
 what things can be bought ! " 
 
 " You think I am too young? "
 
 434 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " I am not sure ! You are very romantic/' he said, 
 and as she laughed at this interpretation, he continued : 
 " If you were thirty instead of twenty-two, you could 
 not make a mistake ! " 
 
 " That's a curious way to put it ! " 
 
 " I am not speaking of ten thousand or twenty thou- 
 sand dollars," he said quietly. " You are the excep- 
 tion. You are the sort of woman that would hold a 
 man for years. Miss Baxter, do you remember what 
 the Comte de Joncy told you ? " 
 
 " Ah, yes; he liked my eyes," she said, laughing. 
 
 " He estimated them at a million each. He knew ! " 
 
 " What nonsense you are talking ! " 
 
 " I am talking of a career," he said quietly. " Con- 
 sider it. It's worth considering!" 
 
 " Ah, now I understand ! Well, go on ! " 
 
 " Just a little glass ? " he said, raising the cham- 
 pagne. 
 
 " Sounds like Bowery melodrama," she said mock- 
 ingly. " The Wicked Millionaire. Please be serious ! 
 It's so nice to talk of millions! " 
 
 "If you knew what I know," he said, looking be- 
 yond her and shrugging his shoulders, " it would be 
 easy to discuss ! There's only one thing important in 
 life, Miss Baxter. Money! " 
 
 "And love?" 
 
 " Love ! You will love ten twenty times ! 
 What do you know of such things ? " he said rapidly. 
 " You have a vague illusion before your eyes, and in 
 reality, what is guiding you is the same principle of 
 nature that governs all life. A woman in the state
 
 THE SALAMANDER 435 
 
 you are in now is really in a state of hysteria an un- 
 natural state, that causes you to do any number of 
 illogical things, crazy things " 
 
 " As, for instance, falling in love ? " 
 
 " Falling in love with impossible people," he cor- 
 rected. "What do you know of love, anyhow? I 
 may know." 
 
 "You!" she said scornfully. 
 
 " Yes now. I've seen the rest, and if I love, it's 
 the young, the beautiful, the past. I won't explain: 
 you must experience to comprehend! Another thing 
 about yourself that you don't understand: to love and 
 to be loved are two different things. A woman like 
 you will always be loved. You won't love, really 
 love, not for a long while not until you begin to 
 grow old ! What stops you from using me ? Family ? 
 You have none ! Friends ? Bah ! " 
 
 "And the man?" she said coldly, beginning 
 fiercely to resent the brutality of his philosophy, 
 though she had determined to remain impersonal and 
 amused. 
 
 ' The man! " He laughed, throwing himself back 
 in his chair, scowling a little at this direct personal al- 
 lusion. * There you have it ! With one question you 
 have betrayed your whole morality woman's mo- 
 rality! The man! If I were a young cub with a ro- 
 mantic strut, talking big, it would be different ; it would 
 not be a case of selling yourself it would be an in- 
 fatuation ! " 
 
 " Perhaps it is our morality," she said indignantly, 
 thinking of Massingale, and led insensibly into a de-
 
 436 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 f ensive attitude. " Say it is ! It's at least nat- 
 ural!" 
 
 " You mean, in my case, the thing that makes you 
 recoil is myself? " he said abruptly. " More than any 
 other consideration ? Say it ! " 
 
 " Quite true ! " 
 
 " If I were asking you to marry me, if you had that 
 opportunity, would that feeling stop you ? " 
 
 She was silent, surprised. 
 
 " It's a money transaction in either case, isn't it ? " 
 
 " What a terrible view of life you have ! " she said, 
 appalled. She had been prepared for danger of an 
 overt character, not for the insidious subtle poisoning 
 which he was distilling in her ears. She drew back, 
 breathing quickly, fiercely resisting his ideas. 
 " Money, money that's all you see, because that's 
 all you understand ! " 
 
 " I only wish to make you see ! " he said, shrugging 
 his shoulders, " that there is no difference in being 
 what I offer you and in being " 
 
 " Mrs. Sassoon ! " she said curtly. 
 
 He did not like the reference, manlike, though he 
 frowned and admitted the allusion with a wave of his 
 fingers. 
 
 " As you wish ! " Then he continued, with an un- 
 wonted energy for his tired attitude : " No, I don't 
 say everything can be controlled by money, but that 
 our world is. There are two sorts of human beings : 
 those who work, and those who live for pleasure. It's 
 the last we're talking about. What are you? You're 
 a nervous, pretty little animal that has learned to
 
 THE SALAMANDER 437 
 
 . 
 
 love luxury. You may know it, or you may not. 
 You may have had the taste of it before you came 
 here, but you've steeped yourself in it since. You 
 couldn't help yourself ! It's all about you ; it's the cor- 
 ruption in every street; it's New York! Don't you 
 think I know you? What were you thinking as you 
 stood before that window to-night? " 
 
 " Yes, I love luxury ! " she said abruptly, admitting 
 it to shut him off. 
 
 "If you had never known New York, you might be 
 different," he continued triumphantly. " You might 
 marry and be satisfied with a commonplace routine ex- 
 istence. But, little girl, you're what you are! You 
 covet everything : jewels oh, I saw your eyes when 
 you refused that necklace; clothes you know your 
 own worth and you've dreamed, you must have 
 dreamed, of what you'd be if you could wear what 
 other women wear; you want to go where others go, 
 pay what others pay ; you want to be watched, courted, 
 admired. Do you think you'll ever love any man as 
 you love yourself?" 
 
 " It isn't true ! " she said furiously ; yet his exposi- 
 tion had left her weakly terrified. 
 
 " It is true ! You know it ! Stand up ; look in the 
 mirror! See yourself as you can be, with jewels in 
 your hair, against your neck, in dresses that are worth 
 hundreds, in furs that are worth thousands ! Do you 
 think you could go in any assembly, theater or restau- 
 rant, but every one wouldn't turn in amazement? " 
 
 She felt troubled, struggling against a heavy lassi- 
 tude, regretting that she had given him this oppor-
 
 438 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 tunity; and instinctively, by a force beyond her con- 
 trol, she raised her eyes to the mirror at the end of the 
 room, and saw a little girl in a simple dress, her hair 
 in a confusion of golden curls, and behind her the tri- 
 umphant woman he had conjured to her eyes. 
 
 " No coffee ! " she said, nervously averting her eyes 
 from his eager gaze. " It's hot, dreadfully hot, in 
 here." 
 
 There came a moment's pause, a lull after the first 
 skirmish, during which he lighted a cigar and waited, 
 well content. 
 
 " It's all a question of opportunity," he began again, 
 while her troubled eyes went past him to the mirror of 
 the future. " You can do now what you can't do 
 later ! Do you want to end in a boarding-house, Miss 
 Baxter?" 
 
 " Why do you care for me? " she asked him ab- 
 ruptly. 
 
 " In the beginning, because you resisted me," he 
 said, turning his cigar in his fingers. " Now, be- 
 cause you hate me ! " 
 
 " And knowing that I hate you, you want me ? " 
 
 " A thousand times more ! " he said, and for the first 
 time the greed and hunger rose in his eyes. But 
 quickly he controlled himself. 
 
 " The moment I stopped resisting you, you would 
 not care"! " she said slowly. 
 
 "True; but you would always resist!" he said 
 quickly. " Besides, that is what I like what you 
 must always do ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 439 
 
 He spoke now with eagerness, a restlessness in his 
 voice, uneasiness in his eyes. Despite the tenseness of 
 the situation, looking on him thus, a flash of pity and 
 horror came to her as she felt, in her progress into the 
 knowledge of life, the hidden tragedies that lurk in 
 the reverse of a glittering medal. 
 
 " Ycu overestimate what I can do ! " she said at 
 last. 
 
 " What are you afraid of? " he asked her, ignoring 
 the remark. " The opinion of society? " 
 
 She did not answer. 
 
 " Go on with your career ! " he said impatiently. 
 "The world will close its eyes to what you do! If 
 you haven't the courage, there's always a way. 
 Marry and separate ! " 
 
 She looked so surprised at this that a thin smile 
 came over his lips. 
 
 " There are a dozen men I can call on who will do 
 you that slight service ! " he said grimly. " Listen ! 
 Let it be so ! I will procure you a husband, a very con- 
 venient, manageable husband, who will appear and dis- 
 appear. You'll become Mrs. Jones or Mrs. Smith, 
 and after a few months you can divorce. You will 
 then be, in the eyes of the world, perfectly qualified to 
 do whatever you please, without danger of criticism. 
 That's society for you ! " 
 
 " So that's the way it is done! " she thought, quite 
 excited. For a brief moment she let herself go into 
 the role he had opened for her, wondering if it were 
 possible if, under any circumstance, even if Massin-
 
 440 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 gale should utterly fail her, she could succeed as he had 
 prophesied. " Really," she said, amazed, " you have 
 men who would sell themselves for that ? " 
 
 " Do you wish to see ? " he said, with a shrug of his 
 shoulders. " It can be done to-night ! " 
 
 "To-night?" 
 
 " You don't believe me ? I'll telephone now ; I'll 
 have your future husband here in half an hour. 
 Would you like to see him? " 
 
 " Not to-night ! " she said, laughing. Then, push- 
 ing back, she added : " Are you through ? " 
 
 " Not quite." 
 
 He rose, took from his pocketbook two bills of a 
 thousand dollars each, and laid them beside her plate. 
 
 "What's this for?" she asked, raising her eyes. 
 
 " For the pleasure you have given me, Miss Bax- 
 ter, in permitting me to take dinner with you," he an- 
 swered, smiling. 
 
 " Just for that ? " she said ironically. 
 
 " Just for that ! " he repeated. He drew back to- 
 ward the window. " You see, it was not so dan- 
 gerous, after all. If you will get your things now, 
 we shall go ! " 
 
 Her sense of the dramatic was struck. 
 
 " Ah, that's very clever of you ! " she said, quite 
 excited. Two thousand dollars just for the favor of 
 dining with her! How subtly he proclaimed what 
 she might expect in the future! The bills were hor- 
 ribly real, seeming to adhere to her fingers. She re- 
 peated, wildly stirred : " Very clever ! " 
 
 He came closer to her, with veiled eagerness.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 441 
 
 "Well, what is it to be?" 
 
 She left the money on the table, answering quietly : 
 
 " You know, don't you ? " 
 
 " You will " 
 
 "No! of course!" 
 
 He frowned impatiently. 
 
 "Think it over!" 
 
 "There's no need!" 
 
 " How much do you want ? Come, tell me ! " he 
 said roughly, with a brutality from which the mask 
 had been withdrawn. 
 
 She laughed triumphantly at the reappearance of 
 the true Sassoon. 
 
 " Ah, I would be very expensive ! " 
 
 "I don't care!" 
 
 " You haven't enough ! " 
 
 " What ! " he cried angrily, trying to seize her 
 wrist. "You are fool enough to refuse? You can 
 have anything you want. I will make you any- 
 thing!" 
 
 "Sassoon, it's the man!" she said scornfully. 
 
 He drew back, red with anger. 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " I mean that everything you have said fills me 
 with horror! " she cried, with a need of self -expostu- 
 lation. " I wouldn't be you for all the millions in the 
 world! Thank God, I can be a fool! I can love 
 like a human being! I'd rather give up everything 
 in the world to the man I adore " 
 
 With an exclamation, he sprang toward her, rage 
 and lust in his eyes; but, prepared, she flung a chair
 
 442 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 against his legs and escaped into the drawing-room, 
 slamming the door in his face, and darting from the 
 vestibule into the hall as he came blindly in pursuit. 
 She did noj: stop until she had descended the flight 
 of stairs. Below, she turned, and perceived his pas- 
 sion distorted face glowering down from the upper 
 landing. 
 
 " Will you kindly bring my things down, Mr. Sas- 
 soon? I'm going now," she said, breathless, but ex- 
 hilarated by the escape and the victory. 
 
 " Come and get them ! " he said furiously, and he 
 disappeared. 
 
 She frowned, not relishing the turn, calculating 
 how to extricate herself. At length, reluctantly, she 
 descended the second flight, resolved to send a boy 
 up-stairs for her things. The vestibule in which she 
 found herself was a large one with glass doors open- 
 ing into the noisy restaurant, played over by an en- 
 ergetic Hungarian orchestra. As she hesitated, 
 conscious of the strange figure she presented, the 
 glass doors swung hastily and Harrigan Blood came 
 out. 
 
 " Dodo ! I thought I recognized you ! " he cried, 
 stopping short. " What in the name of the incred- 
 ible" 
 
 She went to him quickly, grasping his arm, actu- 
 ated by a sudden brilliant plan of revenge. 
 
 " Mr. Blood Harrigan ! " she said quickly. " I 
 was brought here by a gentleman who had told me it 
 was to be a party of eight or ten. I have just es-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 443 
 
 caped from the trap he laid for me! Will you give 
 me your arm while I go and reclaim my things ? " 
 
 "Will I? I'll throttle him!" he said angrily. 
 " The contemptible cur ! Who is he?" 
 
 "Sassoon!" 
 
 "My God!" 
 
 They went upstairs, and pushed aside the half- 
 open doors. At her entrance, Sassoon turned like a 
 startled animal, his face almost unrecognizable with 
 rage. In his fury he had caught his napkin and torn 
 it into shreds. A couple of chairs were overturned, 
 and the covering of the table pulled down. At the 
 sight of Harrigan Blood striding in with menacing 
 looks, Sassoon checked his first impetuous advance, 
 halting abruptly, murder in his heart. 
 
 " I have come for my things, Mr. Sassoon, since 
 you would not bring them to me," Dore said, " and 
 I found a gentleman to accompany me." 
 
 "Is it true, what Miss 'Baxter says?" said Harri- 
 gan Blood, clearing the space that separated them. 
 " Did you bring her here with a lie to a trap? " 
 
 " Mind your own business ! " cried Sassoon, with 
 a scream of rage. " Who are you to preach moral- 
 ity to me? You're a fine one to reproach any one, 
 you are! " 
 
 " I've done a lot of things in my life," said Blood, 
 with rising wrath, " but I never took a woman with 
 a lie like a thief! Sassoon, you're a coward and 
 a dirty cur ! " 
 
 He caught him by the throat in his powerful grip,
 
 444 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 and slapped him twice across the face; then, as a dog 
 with a rat, he shook him in the air and flung him in 
 a heap against the foot of a chair, where he lay, 
 stunned and gasping for breath. Dodo, with her hat 
 and coat, came out hastily, very much frightened, 
 awed at the sight of men in rage and combat. 
 
 " Oh, let's go let's go ! " she cried. " Oh, is he 
 hurt? You've not " 
 
 "Killed him? No, so much the worse!" Blood 
 said scornfully. "Now get away quickly; there 
 must be no scandal ! " 
 
 Below, on the sidewalk, he placed her in a taxicab, 
 but refused to enter with her. 
 
 " No," he said, shaking his head. " I'm a very 
 human person, Miss Baxter; I'm not going in the 
 way of temptation, when I know there's no hope. 
 It's good-by, young lady ! " 
 
 " I do like you I admire you, Mr. Blood," she 
 said, retaining his hand. " Don't hate me ! " 
 
 He looked at her for a moment, struggling with 
 his emotion. At last he said quietly, watching her 
 with his strange eyes, that had the glowing quality 
 of the feline: 
 
 "Dodo, shall I come?" 
 
 She drew back as if wounded; then she closed the 
 door, afraid. 
 
 "No!" 
 
 "You see? Good-by!" 
 
 " Don't hate me ! " she said, suddenly leaning out 
 of the window and seizing his arm convulsively. 
 " You mustn't ! I'm only a wild, crazy little thing."
 
 THE SALAMANDER 445 
 
 " You're all that! " he said gravely. " Look here! 
 After to-night I've a right to say this. Look out! 
 You're going to get into trouble; mind what I say 
 the game's dangerous ! " 
 
 He raised his hat, signaled the driver and turned 
 to walk in the direction of the subway. She was 
 immensely sorry to lose him. She wanted to call 
 after him again not to hate her. For she had a feel- 
 ing now that all men, all whom she had gathered 
 about her, hated her or would come to hate her; that 
 it was not love she inspired, but only an antagonism. 
 She was not sure even of Massingale. How could 
 he love her, when she brought nothing but unrest into 
 his life when she did nothing but make him mis- 
 erable and unhappy from morning to night? Then, 
 she felt it was the approach of the fatal tenth of 
 March that was disorganizing her, horribly hypno- 
 tizing her, shattering all her nerves, and she said to 
 herself that it could not go on; she must find peace 
 somewhere; she would not wait. To-morrow there 
 would be a decision between Massingale and herself. 
 Either that, or she would go to Blainey, where she 
 belonged, and enter the world of work. To-morrow, 
 without further delay she would decide her life, be- 
 fore Lindaberry could return, or that haunting image 
 of her former life. 
 
 And when, at length, she had passed from the taxi- 
 cab up the stoop and into the dim-lit hall, Josh Neb- 
 bins was waiting for her in the gloom of the parlor, as 
 she had known for days he would come out of those 
 musty shadows which were like mists of the past.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 HAD Sassoon himself imagined the climax, he 
 could have found nothing more terribly effica- 
 cious than this recrudescence from the past of 
 Joshua Nebbins. She was at the hat-rack, eagerly 
 running through the mail, when her hand stopped, 
 as if paralyzed, at the sound of a soft whistle from 
 the parlor, two low notes and a higher, followed by 
 a chuckling laugh. She turned, knowing instantly 
 who it was. 
 
 "Flossie! Bless your sparkling eyes!" cried a 
 voice. 
 
 She entered hastily, fearing the publicity of the 
 hall. He was advancing, radiant and confident, arms 
 open. She put out her hands hastily to ward him 
 off. He saw, and halted. 
 
 " Oh! That's the game, is it? All right! Shake! 
 Miss Baxter, how do you do ? " 
 
 "Hello, Josh!" she said coldly. 
 
 Now that the meeting had come, like an animal 
 driven to bay, she was possessed of a desperate cour- 
 age. This interview should be the last! There 
 would be no mincing of words. She must be free ! 
 
 They stood a moment looking at each other. He 
 had scarcely changed. She even seemed to remem- 
 ber the coat he wore, a golden brown whip-cord, 
 which she had once so admired! Yes, he was the 
 
 446
 
 THE SALAMANDER 447 
 
 same as she remembered him: a red tie, a death's- 
 head pin, the thin carmine edge of a silk handkerchief 
 protruding from the breast pocket, a buckskin vest 
 with glass buttons. Probably the same shoes, too, 
 were there, concealed in the shadows, patent leathei 
 with chamois tops. 
 
 He was not in the least abashed by the formality 
 of her reception. He had never been abashed in his 
 life, and he was looking at her now with an impudent 
 confidence in the upstarting nose, the wide grinning 
 mouth, the Yankee sharpness of jaw and cheek- 
 bones, and the alert eyes, which would admit of no 
 refusals. 
 
 "Prettier than ever!" he exclaimed, after a long 
 admiring whistle. " That's a new trick with the 
 hair, and, Floss, you certainly are the swell dresser! 
 Well, Mrs. Nebbins, how are you ? " 
 
 He plunged his hands into his pockets, slanted his 
 head and gazed at her for all the world like a saucy 
 sparrow. She knew that half measures would be 
 vain, and she went directly to the issue. 
 
 " Josh, I have a good many things to say to you, a 
 good many to make you understand," she said ab- 
 ruptly. " Wait here ! I'll be down directly, and 
 then we'll go out somewhere, where we can talk ! " 
 
 " Are you married ? " he said, chuckling. 
 
 " No ! Why ? " she said, surprised. 
 
 'That's the only thing I was afraid of!" he said, 
 shooting his cuff with a jerk of his crooked thumb. 
 " All right, kid ! Run along ! I can wait ! Pa- 
 tience is my middle name!"
 
 448 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 She went to her room, running up the steps, her 
 anger increasing, no longer fearing him, but a prey 
 to all the cruel impulses of scorn and contempt. This 
 past was too ridiculous! It must end, at once and 
 forever! There was a note from Lindaberry, which 
 she placed hurriedly in the trunk, where were already 
 his other unread letters. She searched for the 
 money Winona had sent, and suddenly remembered 
 that it had been in her pocket all the time. One 
 thing she was coldly determined on to pay him 
 back the old debt that had set like a leaden weight on 
 her conscience! That, at least, should no longer 
 stand as a reproach! But, to accomplish this, it was 
 necessary to accept what had at first filled her with 
 horror. This caused her to recoil a moment ; but she 
 remembered what sums she had just refused, and she 
 convinced herself that she had the right to use this 
 little amount for such a worthy object. Besides, she 
 would consider it only as a loan. 
 
 Then she went to the telephone and called up Judge 
 Massingale, giving him a rendezvous at ten o'clock, 
 for she was determined to take no more than an hour 
 to end all relations with the past she had so longed 
 to see buried and forgot. That out of the way, 
 she would be free to deal with Massingale to-night. 
 With him she would have done with fencing and act- 
 ing. She would meet him in simple trust, in perfect 
 faith. Everything should be on the big scale 
 nothing petty, nothing unworthy. Now to have 
 done with the other! 
 
 They went to the cafe of one of the great apart-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 449 
 
 ment hotels off Madison Square, where she felt cer- 
 tain she would meet no one she knew, ensconcing 
 themselves in a discreet corner. 
 
 "Don't mind my feeding?" he asked, in perfect 
 good humor. " Couldn't stop for grub or anything 
 else, when I had a chance to see you, Floss ! " 
 
 He ordered roast beef hash with a poached egg, 
 spareribs with boiled cauliflower, and two charlotte 
 russes. The very sounds made her shiver. She 
 glanced about uneasily; but the restaurant was de- 
 serted, except for a fat German in a far corner, 
 languidly dipping his heavy mustache into a foaming 
 stein of beer. 
 
 " Josh," she said suddenly, extending her hand 
 where Lindaberry's ring shone, " I'm engaged ! " 
 
 " Oh, that's all right ! " he said, spreading his nap- 
 kin, from the second button of his coat, and bisecting 
 a loaf of bread. 
 
 " You don't understand ! " 
 
 "Don't I? Of course I do! You're engaged? 
 Well, I expected that! Not the first time, is it? It's 
 a convenient sort of state to be in. That doesn't 
 worry me ! " 
 
 "If I'd known where to write you, I should have 
 let you know ! " 
 
 " Good reason why I kept quiet ! " 
 
 " And," she said suddenly, producing the hundred- 
 dollar bill. " I should have paid you this back long 
 ago!" 
 
 He frowned and drew back in his chair, his knife 
 in his fist, rather comic than terrible.
 
 450 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Here ! I don't like that ! Not in the rules of 
 the game ! " 
 
 " It was a debt. I certainly am not going to ac- 
 cept money." 
 
 " Hold up! " With the point of his knife, disdain- 
 fully, he steered the bill from in front of him to a 
 place of seclusion. " This ain't important, anyhow. 
 It's your manner, kid. Rather uppish. Now, let's 
 get a few things straight before we start. Do you 
 remember one evening back in Cincinnati, in a howl- 
 ing dirty depot, when you wanted to give up every- 
 thing and marry me ? Do you ? " 
 
 She looked at him, and she blushed. Great heav- 
 ens! Was it possible? 
 
 " And what did I do ? I was honest ! I told you 
 I was going to get a start first, to be sure I was the 
 kind of a feller who could give you what you want. 
 Didn't I?" 
 
 " You should have married me then ! " she said 
 quickly. 
 
 "Perhaps! But I didn't. Why? On your ac- 
 count! Just let's keep these things in mind. If I 
 come back now, I'm to get as fair a chance as the next 
 fellow! Now, Floss, don't come any airs over me! 
 It won't go ! " 
 
 The hash arrived, and he attacked it, all smiles. 
 How was she to make him understand the difference 
 between them now the immense worldly distance 
 that now separated them? She remembered Sas- 
 soon's analysis, and adopted it as an inspiration. 
 
 " My dear Josh," she said in a more conciliatory
 
 THE SALAMANDER 451 
 
 tone, " even if I were not engaged, and engaged 
 to a man I adore blindly, there wouldn't be the 
 slightest possibility for anything between us.'* 
 
 " We'll see ! " he said, unruffled, his mouth half full. 
 
 " Your chance was in Cincinnati ! " she said delib- 
 erately. " That was your mistake, or your good luck ! 
 I'm different now so changed I don't recognize my- 
 self!" 
 
 "Rats!" 
 
 " True ! I'm a vain, luxury-loving girl, who has 
 got to live on excitement ! I couldn't be happy a day 
 away from all this! I adore New York! I've got 
 to be on the go every minute! If I married a poor 
 man, I'd ruin him in a month ! " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " In a month ! I've got the taste, the habit of lux- 
 ury; I just can't do without it! The man I marry 
 has got to be able to give me everything I see other 
 women have dresses, jewels, automobiles, or I 
 should be miserable! You see, I don't spare myself; 
 I tell you the truth. I've got to have money, and I've 
 got to have New York ! " 
 
 He reflected a moment, studying the spareribs, 
 which had just arrived. 
 
 " Well, now, that might be arranged," he said 
 thoughtfully. " I like this little burg myself." 
 
 " What's the use of beating around the bush ? " she 
 said suddenly. " Josh, this is the truth ; I've grown 
 away from you and from all that old life. I've gone 
 into a new. I'm in love, madly, blindly, and there's 
 no other man in the world for me ! You won't under-
 
 452 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 stand! You force me to be cruel! It's ended be- 
 tween us, and I never wish it to be brought up again. 
 And if you are a gentleman, you won't pursue me; 
 you'll go away ! " 
 
 " Gentleman's a stretchy word, kid ! " he said, re- 
 fusing to be angry. " But I'm here, and I'll stick ! 
 You can't ruffle me ! I'm not here to get frothy at the 
 mouth ; I'm here to win you back ! " 
 
 She tried every means to open his eyes. She left 
 nothing unsaid. It had no more effect on him than 
 the wind against a cliff. He answered all attacks 
 good-naturedly, perfectly obstinate and perfectly re- 
 solved. When they returned over the short blocks to 
 Miss Pirn's, she said at last, desperately : 
 
 " I tell you frankly, I won't see you ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes, you will ! " he said. 
 
 " But since you know I'm going to be married? " 
 
 " Don't know anything of the kind ! " he said 
 gruffly. " Now, Floss, just put this away in your 
 thinker. You can't get rid of me. You'll never get 
 rid of me until you're married and then I won't 
 give you up till I go to the church and see you come 
 down not up, down the aisle hitched to another 
 man!" 
 
 "Another thing, Josh. If you don't take the 
 money," she said, as they came in view of Miss Pirn's 
 and Massingale's automobile waiting, " I'll tear it 
 up!" 
 
 " Hold up ! I'll take it ! " he said quickly. " Only 
 this is the way you'll ask it : ' Mr. Nebbins, you were 
 always square by me, and I'm grateful to you for it.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 453 
 
 Thank you for what you loaned me, and do me the 
 favor to take it back ! ' Say that, or it can lie there ! " 
 
 She had a horror of Massingale's coming in contact 
 with this undisciplined savage. She would do any- 
 thing to prevent that. So she swallowed her pride 
 and repeated the phrase. 
 
 " Good, Flossie ! " he exclaimed joyfully. " That's 
 like old times, when you used to have your tantrums ! 
 Just remember, now, who knows you and who you 
 can't fool ! To-morrow ? " 
 
 She stopped at the foot of the steps, holding out her 
 hand. 
 
 " What's the game now ? " he asked suspiciously. 
 " Don't want me to come up ? Oh, that's all right ! 
 Don't believe in mixing things myself! To-morrow 
 for lunch?" 
 
 " Good-by ! " she said emphatically, running up the 
 steps. 
 
 " To-morrow! " he called after her. 
 
 When she entered, Massingale was in the parlor, 
 and the bamboo curtains at the -windows were still 
 tinkling, where he had been posted in watch. Neb- 
 bins had rilled her with such a fear of the old ascend- 
 ency that, despite the publicity of the room, she flung 
 her arms about his neck and lay against his shoulder 
 like a frightened fluttering bird. 
 
 " Ah, now I am happy ! " she said softly, running 
 her fingers in a caress over the tip of his ear. 
 
 ;< You change quickly ! " he said coldly, resisting. 
 
 ''You were at the window?" she asked, compre- 
 hending instantly the cause of his mistrust.
 
 454 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 "I was!" 
 
 " I couldn't help it ! It was " 
 
 " Don't invent ! " he said roughly. " I'm not in the 
 mood!" 
 
 " No, no, I won't ! " she said, with a sudden re- 
 solve. " Only, let's get away from here first. I have 
 so much to say to you to-night ! " 
 
 As they went down the steps to his automobile, she 
 glanced nervously up and down the dimly lighted ave- 
 nue. Nebbins was there, as she had expected, leaning 
 against a stoop, his hat on one side, waiting to see if 
 she would come out. She sprang into the closed car, 
 extinguishing the light. 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "Anywhere out of this. Up-town!" 
 
 They had to pass him, still waiting and curious, 
 half revealed under the pale region of a near lamp- 
 post. She waited breathlessly, hoping that Massin- 
 gale would not perceive him. Vain hope ! He leaned 
 forward abruptly, saying: 
 
 "Who is that man?" 
 
 " I'll tell you everything ! Just a moment ! " 
 
 She drew nearer to him, fastening her fingers, like 
 a lonely child, in the collar of his coat; laying her 
 head against his arm, very quiet ; tired, with a longing 
 for strength and petting. But, stiff and resentful, he 
 did not put his arm about her. Suddenly he burst 
 out: 
 
 "Dodo! I can't stand it! This is driving me 
 crazy! What do I know of you? What do you 
 want me to think? You go and come. You tell me
 
 THE SALAMANDER 455 
 
 one minute you love me, and the next, where are you ? 
 Where do you go? Whom do you see? What is 
 your life? Who is this man who comes as far as 
 your door, and then waits on the corner? Whom are 
 you with until three o'clock in the morning? And 
 Harrigan Blood, and Sassoon, and how many others? 
 Dodo, I tell you, you are driving me wild. I suffer ! 
 If you knew what I've been going through these days, 
 in every way ! " 
 
 He stopped abruptly; he hardly recognized himself 
 in this frantic complainant. 
 
 " Dodo, I tell you, I can't stand this any longer ! 
 You have disorganized everything in my life. I'm 
 half mad!" 
 
 "Yes, I am very wicked, very cruel to you!" she 
 said, with a lump in her throat, pressing his arm con- 
 vulsively. " I know it ! I know it ! I've said it to 
 myself a hundred times over. I can't help it! Why 
 am I so? I don't know! Perhaps it were better if 
 you went away, if you never saw me again. At 
 least, you wouldn't hate me. Yes, go ! You had bet- 
 ter go ! That's it Go ! Go ! " 
 
 She stopped, and each was seized with the chill of 
 this awful thought. He gave a deep sigh and put his 
 arm around her. She crowded close to him, feeling 
 so little, of such small consequence, staring out at 
 the battling currents of brutal thoroughfares. The 
 clamor of the city came roaring at their windows 
 immense glaring cars with strident bells, iron masses 
 above shattering the air, even the earth below peri- 
 odically shaken with the rumble of multitudes tearing
 
 456 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 through the bowels of the city. Confusion, riot mul- 
 tiplied, echoed and reechoed ; masses of sky-cleaving 
 prisons; millions of lights, blinding and bewildering; 
 and everywhere the multitude, humanity in thousands 
 on thousands, crowding their path, spying on every 
 action, drowning out sigh and laughter! What peace 
 or tranquillity was there? What fragile thing could 
 endure against the buffeting? What mattered? By 
 Massingale's side, shivering, clinging, she felt the 
 weak tears suddenly rising, seized by a horror of this 
 life which had to be lived, some way or other, in fear 
 of what might follow. 
 
 " Be honest ! Tell me all you've hidden ! Let me 
 know the truth, at least!" he said suddenly. 
 
 She sat up, drawing away from him, readjusting 
 her hat. Yes, she would throw herself on his gener- 
 osity ; she would tell him the truth perhaps not the 
 truth in every detail, but all that was vital. For she 
 could not bear that he should see Josh Nebbins as he 
 really was. The vulgarity, the pettiness of it, she 
 would keep from him, divining how his aristocratic 
 temperament would revolt at the thought that such 
 arms had once held her as his now encircled her. 
 
 " It is nothing bad ! " she said. " There is nothing 
 in my life that I am ashamed of. That is the truth ! 
 Only, I am upset, irritated, terribly irritated. I am 
 passing through a most disagreeable experience. The 
 man you saw I was engaged to three years ago, when 
 I was an ignorant foolish girl. I regret it bitterly ! 
 We were totally unsuited. Now it is ridiculous, hu- 
 miliating ! I never expected to see him again ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 457 
 
 "Who is he? "he asked. 
 
 " Oh, there is nothing wrong with him ! " she said 
 instantly. " He was in the ministry, in settlement 
 work very honest, very good. Then he went on a 
 paper. I don't know how it happened ! I was very 
 religious then; I wanted to devote my life " 
 
 " But why didn't you break it off, Dodo? " 
 
 " I did ! But you don't know him ! He wouldn't 
 marry me then until he'd saved some money, writing 
 articles and all that sort of thing. Now he can't see 
 how I've changed, how impossible it would be. And 
 oh, it makes me shudder! It's such a narrow walled- 
 in little life! So barren, so ugly!" 
 
 " Send him away ! " 
 
 "HI could! He won't understand. And when 
 I'm with him I feel as if I were being dragged back 
 to all I hate ! He's a terrible man ! Sometimes I 
 really am afraid he'll force me to marry him. Oh, I 
 assure you, I am very, very unhappy ! " 
 
 " And the ring, Dodo ? " he said, with a sigh of re- 
 lief, leaning over and touching her hand. 
 
 It was as if a sudden blast of cold air had been let 
 in. She drew back. 
 
 " I can't tell you of that now," she said hastily. 
 " When you have the right and that depends on 
 you I will tell you, for it is something that I am 
 very glad of ! " 
 
 " Dodo, I must know. I can't go on like this ! I 
 simply can't." 
 
 " Neither can I ! " she said, with a sudden lump in 
 her throat. " Don't you see how I am going to
 
 458 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 pieces? Don't you know why I do such wild crazy 
 things? Oh, if I were only sure of you!" 
 
 " If I could be sure of you! " he retorted bitterly. 
 
 " What would you do ? " she asked, grasping his 
 arm eagerly. " Would you do as I wish ? Would 
 you dare? " 
 
 " Dodo, I wish to be divorced and to marry you ! " 
 he said abruptly. 
 
 She shrank from him with a cry of disappointment. 
 She sought romance, uncalculated and overwhelming; 
 she wished to hear him, driven beyond himself, crying 
 tempestuous words in her ears, ready for any sacrifice ; 
 and instead, he was concerned with planning a con- 
 ventional solution. 
 
 " No, no ! " she cried, bitterly disillusioned. " Oh, 
 you don't love me as I love you, if you can think only 
 of that!" 
 
 " But why not, Dodo ? " 
 
 " Oh, not marriage ! I hate the very word ! " she 
 said indignantly. " That would spoil everything ! I 
 want to be Dodo! I don't want to change. And 
 you want to make me! What would happen? After 
 a while you would want me to be like your formal 
 women, society women, and I should be bored, or you 
 would get tired of me. And then my heart would 
 break!" 
 
 " But, great God ! child, haven't you any moral- 
 ity?" he exclaimed, beyond himself. "Have I al- 
 ways got to protect you against yourself? " 
 
 " Is it my morality," she said, opening her eyes, " or
 
 THE SALAMANDER 459 
 
 what society will think of you, that you are worried 
 about?" 
 
 He was silent, without an answer. 
 
 " Listen ! " she continued determinedly. " This 
 must stop! I said I was going to decide everything 
 on the tenth. I'm not! I can't stand it! To-mor- 
 row I'm going to settle everything. Do you love me 
 enough to run away with me to-morrow ? " 
 
 " Do you really, honestly, in the bottom of your 
 crazy romantic heart, believe you would do such a 
 thing?" he asked solemnly. 
 
 She was instantly a-tremble with an electric ardor. 
 
 " Would I ? Would I sacrifice this for something 
 real, something immense, for a perfect blinding love? 
 Oh, how can you ask ! " 
 
 "And if I come to-morrow and say 'Come!' you 
 will leave everything and go with me, anywhere ? " 
 
 She put her two hands in his with a gesture of a 
 Siddons. 
 
 "Anywhere!" 
 
 He retained his doubts, but he did not discuss. Fi- 
 nally he said : 
 
 " Very well ! To-morrow afternoon I will come 
 and tell you my decision ! You are right. This must 
 end, one way or the other ! " 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "At five o'clock!" 
 
 "At five, then. If not " 
 
 "If not, what?" 
 
 " I shall have made another decision ! "
 
 460 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 They said little during the remainder of the trip 
 back, the gravity of the crisis that had been imposed 
 affecting them both. She had only faint belief that 
 he would come, as she wished him to come; and her 
 eyes resting on the sudden electric paraphernalia of 
 the theaters, the gilded outward trappings, the bill- 
 boards, and the displays on the sidewalk, she lost her- 
 self in reveries, feeling the mountain of drudgery she 
 would have to move. Besides, another thing ob- 
 truded itself between them the lie, slight as it had 
 been, that she had told. She was vaguely aware of 
 it, unable to return into the intimacy of her first cling- 
 ing attitude. Arrived at the house, he mounted the 
 steps with her, and said gravely : 
 
 " Very well, Dodo ! I take you at your word. I 
 don't know what it will be. What you ask from me 
 is as great, probably a greater sacrifice than you would 
 make. But I may do as you wish! To-morrow, in 
 any case, I will come ! " 
 
 He did not attempt to kiss her in the shadow of the 
 vestibule, nor did she think of it. It was very seri- 
 ous, this parting. She felt the weight of the impend- 
 ing decision as she went slowly to her room, and she 
 found herself halting, from time to time, in the dark 
 ascent, a little frightened, a little strange, asking her- 
 self if it were possible, after all, if the incredible were 
 to come, if he really was to put her to the test.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 SASSOON came to see her the first thing in the 
 morning, just as she was completing her toilet 
 For, though over the city was the heavy somnolence 
 of Sunday, she could not sleep; in fact, she had 
 scarcely closed her eyes all night. It was daylight, 
 and yet it was unreal. She was asking herself, in- 
 credulously, if the moment of decision had come, 
 the hour she had contemplated, it seemed, all her life, 
 when Josephus brought his card. It gave her 
 quite a shock, this return of the persistent hunter, 
 whom she had left, groveling and stunned, at the foot 
 of a disordered table. What did it mean? She 
 glanced at the card again. Across it was written in 
 minuscule letters: 
 
 "Please see me, just for a moment! " 
 
 She hesitated, tempted by the sudden and the inex- 
 plicable. Was it possible that he credited her with 
 acting a part, that his passion could crowd out all 
 sense of shame? And, finally, what could he say, 
 after last night? 
 
 " I'll be down in a few minutes ! " she said, with a 
 nod. Then she recalled Josephus hastily, giving ex- 
 plicit orders that, if Nebbins came, he was to 
 be told that she had gone on a visit, that she 
 would not be back until the next noon; under no cir- 
 cumstances was he to be admitted. She glanced un- 
 
 461
 
 462 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 easily into the room where Snyder, curled up in a ball 
 on the bed, was sleeping the heavy sleep of those who 
 consume the night six days of the week. What 
 would she say to Snyder, and how avoid her question- 
 ing glances, this day of days? 
 
 When, at length, she entered the stuffy parlor, she 
 beheld Sassoon in the raw, no longer languid and 
 heavy of eye, but uncontrollably aroused, pacing the 
 floor in feverish impatience. The look he gave her 
 was so like that of a maddened animal that she halted, 
 afraid; and the fear that ran through her bones was 
 not only of the present, but a sudden terrified compre- 
 hension of the past of what she had risked and 
 escaped. She remained standing, with the table inter- 
 posed as a barrier between them. 
 
 "Sit down please!" he said, looking at her ea- 
 gerly, in his voice a note of hoarse avidity that gave it 
 a strange hurried quality. 
 
 " What have you to say to me? " she said, without 
 moving. 
 
 " Miss Baxter," he said abruptly, " make your own 
 conditions ! " 
 
 " What ! You are not ashamed ? " 
 
 " Make your own conditions ! I will agree to any- 
 thing!" 
 
 " There are no conditions ! " 
 
 " Wait ! " He drew from his pocket a document, 
 his ringers trembling so he could hardly unbutton his 
 coat, crumpled it in his emotion and resumed : 
 
 "First, I have arranged everything! You will 
 marry not a trainer or a secretary, but a gentle-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 463 
 
 man, Captain Markett-Blount, an English gentleman 
 whom I have bought. No- listen to me! Under- 
 stand everything! I am not putting you into the 
 demi-monde; I'm giving you a chance at everything. 
 You will have a social position. You will go wher- 
 ever I want you to go. You can remain married, or 
 you can divorce, when you want. You will have a 
 husband who will do as I wish ! I give him fifty thou- 
 sand for his name. I will give him the same to free 
 you. You will marry the hour you say to-night. 
 You will dine at my house; you will visit me on the 
 same footing as Mrs. Sassoon's friends. In a week 
 you will join a party on my yacht, and go with us to 
 cruise into the Mediterranean, to Egypt, anywhere! 
 No one will say a word no one will dare ! You will 
 be in exactly the same position as a hundred women in 
 society any one who would come at a whistle from 
 me! As for you " 
 
 " As for me ? " she repeated, fascinated despite her- 
 self. 
 
 " I will give you now, simply on your word, any- 
 thing you ask. Name any sum. More, I will do 
 what I have never done. Here, look ! Here is a con- 
 tract in black and white. Have it examined by your 
 own lawyer. Write down whatever sum you want. 
 Make it for one year or ten I'll sign it ! You can 
 hold it over me; you can blackmail me, if you wish! 
 And that is nothing to what I'll give you jewels, 
 houses " 
 
 " But you are mad ! " she cried, horrified at the 
 craving in his voice and the wildness in his eyes.
 
 464 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Yes, mad, Dodo. You are right completely 
 mad ! But profit by it ! You can place yourself any- 
 where; you can have anything from me! I myself 
 will tell you how to torture me, to rob me " 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 " Yes, yes ! You will ! You can't refuse such 
 things ! " he cried. " You're not a fool ! Ah, I zc'z'// 
 have you ! " 
 
 Suddenly, as she shuddered and closed her hands 
 over her eyes with loathing, he glided around the ta- 
 ble and caught her in his arms. 
 
 " Sassoon ! Here ! You are crazy ! " she cried, 
 struggling frantically. 
 
 "What do I care!" 
 
 " Let me go ! I'll scream ! " 
 
 " What do I care ! " His arms inclosed her with 
 the strength of steel, gripped her to him, struggling to 
 bring her face to his, crying incoherent brutal words 
 that left her sick with loathing, a cold hard pain pen- 
 etrating into her breast, frightened, helpless, trying to 
 beat away the acquiring lips with savage fingers. At 
 the moment when, despairing, she was about to cry 
 aloud, mercifully there came a ring at the front door. 
 He paused, trembling and breathless ; and the next she 
 had torn herself away from him and escaped up-stairs, 
 shaken in every muscle, sick with horror and enraged 
 loathing. Snyder up, stared in amazement at her dis- 
 ordered figure. The soiling embrace seemed to cling 
 to her arms, to her neck, to the very clothes she had 
 on. She tore them from her with disgust, with sick- 
 ening.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 465 
 
 " Lord ! Dodo, what's happened ? " cried Snyder, 
 starting up. 
 
 " Sassoon ! Beast ! " she gasped, choking with 
 rage. She flung her dress in a corner, and plunged 
 her arms and head into the wash-basin, scrubbing 
 them with a towel as if they could not be cleansed 
 as if nothing could ever cleanse them again. 
 
 Then suddenly she fell into a fit of hysterical weep- 
 ing. Snyder, frightened, camped at her side, pressing 
 her to her breast, calling her childish names, implored 
 her to be calm. When at last, from sheer fatigue, she 
 had grown quiet, she refused all questions, unwilling 
 to talk; all at once solemn, determined, as controlled 
 and impassive as a moment before she had been dis- 
 organized and frantic. Snyder, amazed, watched her 
 as if she were a statue. 
 
 " You're all right now ? " 
 
 "All right!" 
 
 " You can't tell me ? Nothing?" 
 
 "Nothing!" 
 
 At the end of a moment she turned thoughtfully. 
 "Come to lunch, just in Lexington Avenue?" 
 
 " Sure, petty ! " 
 
 " I have no money." 
 
 "Shut up! I have lots!" 
 
 " Good ! Now, don't talk to me, Snyder ! I don't 
 want to talk ! " 
 
 The woman nodded, uneasy and suspicious, mov- 
 ing about her way, but never losing sight of the girl. 
 
 Dodo went to the trunk, took out Lindaberry's let- 
 ters, and returned to the window. Outside it was
 
 466 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 raining by fits and starts, in swerving sheets, wind- 
 driven, with the restlessness of March. Handfuls of 
 drops flung against the panes with sudden rattling 
 crescendo. She opened the last letter and read it 
 without emotion, in a dull, listless, painless, concen- 
 tration. It began, " Dodo, my good angel," and it 
 announced the thing she had feared his imminent 
 return. 
 
 " He will get over it! " she said, staring down the 
 avenue, where the rain-drops rebounded from the as- 
 phalt like myriads of shimmering insects, swarming 
 hungrily. " He will get over it, and he will live 
 his own life, and he will end by being grateful to 
 me!" 
 
 She remained silent a long while, wondering, think- 
 ing of Massingale, of Blainey, watching the leaden 
 clouds breaking and rolling above, feeling the spray 
 that lashed the window, cooling her cheeks, fascinated 
 by the rain-drops that swarmed, like myriad white in- 
 sects, dancing below. There was so much to do 
 and she was unable to do anything. 
 
 At twelve she rose quietly, telephoned to Blainey 
 for an afternoon appointment, signaled Snyder and 
 led the way to luncheon. 
 
 She went to the theater by the subway on account 
 of a famished pocketbobk, and the depressing sensa- 
 tion of damp ankles and muddied skirts, which came 
 to her as she clung to her umbrella and leaned against 
 the wind, reinforced her determination to come to ac- 
 tualities. 
 
 " Hello ! This is a surprise ! " he said, when at last
 
 THE SALAMANDER 467 
 
 she had come, with dripping umbrella, into his office. 
 " Must have got my dates mixed ! " 
 
 "No! It's I who am tired of waiting!" she said 
 abruptly. 
 
 She shed her rain-coat, shaking her skirts and 
 glancing at her muddy shoes in delicate disgust. 
 Then she advanced in a businesslike manner to the 
 seat which Blainey, contrary to his customary bluff 
 indifference, was presenting to her with extreme def- 
 erence. 
 
 " Blainey, I've come to the end of my rope ! " she 
 said, folding her arms over her breast. " I'm through 
 with playing and cutting up. I'm going to make up 
 my mind to something serious now! I've got to talk 
 to some one about it ; that's why I've come to you ! " 
 
 " Good eye ! " he said, nodding and reaching for a 
 cigar. " I, too, have got something to thrash out. 
 Well, kid, what's annoyin* you?" 
 
 " Things have been getting mixed up, Blainey," she 
 told him seriously. " I guess I'm not as clever as I 
 thought!" She stopped, thinking of the legion that 
 had fallen away: of Peavey, who had gone; of Mas- 
 singale, who was still a mystery; and of Nebbins, a 
 present menace. " Either that, or I'm getting tired of 
 fooling!" 
 
 He nodded wisely, waiting for her to continue. 
 She noted the rough sympathetic cut of visage, the 
 mouth, which had changed its grimness for a tolerant 
 humor, the eyes, which were fixed on her with keen 
 perception, softened by a homely adoration, and she 
 felt that she could talk to him as to no one else. He
 
 468 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 would understand everything, the good and the bad 
 in her. He was nearer to her, to her kind, to an un- 
 derstanding of her longings and her temptations, than 
 those other men who had never known the struggle of 
 a self-made life. 
 
 " Blainey, it's awfully hard to decide," she said, 
 leaning forward and clutching her knee. " I'm in a 
 fix; I don't know what I'll do! " 
 
 " Well, first," he asked, with an encouraging nod, 
 " how's the heart ? " 
 
 She sat silent a moment, her hands locked, staring 
 at the floor. 
 
 " I wish I knew ! " she said slowly. 
 
 "Marriage?" 
 
 "No!" 
 
 " Sure of the man?" he said abruptly. 
 
 " That's it; I'm not sure of him! " 
 
 "And yourself?" 
 
 She tried conscientiously to see herself. 
 
 " Even of that I don't know." 
 
 "Pretty hard hit, eh?" 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " Go slow ! Be sure ! " 
 
 " I'm going to, Blainey ! " 
 
 " What else ? Marriage ? " 
 
 She made a gesture of irritation. 
 
 " No ; that's not for me ! " 
 
 " You're wrong, kid," he said energetically. " You 
 don't know the game ! " 
 
 "What! You advise me to marry?" she ex- 
 claimed, in astonishment.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 469 
 
 "You? Every time!" he said, straightening up. 
 " However, we'll discuss that later ! " He looked at 
 her shrewdly and said abruptly : " How about Sas- 
 soon?" 
 
 A fantastic idea came into her head to try to 
 what extent his advice could be disinterested. 
 
 " Sassoon's the point," she said quietly. " What 
 do you think he offered me this very morning? " 
 
 She detailed the terms, the proffered marriage and 
 the contract, while Blainey, craning forward, listened 
 with intense curiosity. When she had finished, he 
 rose abruptly, eased the grip of his collar and moved 
 heavily to the window. Then he made her repeat all 
 that she had said, word for word. 
 
 "You're giving me a straight story?" 
 
 "Honest to God!" 
 
 He gave vent to a long whistle, drumming on the 
 desk. 
 
 " Well, kid," he said at last, with an effort, " that's 
 a pretty big proposition ! " He shook his head sol- 
 emnly. " I don't see how you can turn it down ! " 
 
 " Well, Blainey, that's just what I've done ! " she 
 said evenly. 
 
 "Think it over! Better think it over carefully!" 
 he advised anxiously. " Ten years from now you 
 may get a different squint at life, and regret it! " 
 
 She laughed. She had an idea that what they were 
 discussing was curiously immoral; but, strange as it 
 was, she had a feeling that he was quite unselfish, and 
 was grateful to him for it. In fact she felt nearer to 
 him than ever before.
 
 470 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " No, no, Blainey," she said quickly. " Not for 
 me ! I'm not thirty-two I'm twenty-two ; and, 
 thank heaven, I can be a little fool ! " 
 
 He resumed his seat, unconvinced, half inclined to 
 argue. All at once he looked up, with a snap in his 
 gray eyes, at the girl who was watching him, amused. 
 
 " Speaking of marriage, why don't you marry 
 me?" 
 
 She rose to her feet in amazement. 
 
 " Surprised ? " he asked, grinning. 
 
 "Bowled over!" 
 
 " Rather expected another proposition ? " he said 
 bluntly. 
 
 " Yes, I did ! Good heavens ! Blainey, why do 
 you want to marry me ? " 
 
 "For about six hundred and fifty-two reasons!" 
 he said solemnly. " First, because I'm fond of you. 
 Second, because I'm lonely, kid! Third, because I'd 
 like to work for you, make something big out of you, 
 give you a career that would be a career. The rest 
 don't count! You see, kid, I believe in you, and the 
 contract I'm offering you," he added, with a sudden 
 chuckling return to playfulness, " is the only contract 
 I know that's worth a damn between manager and 
 star. Of course, you've got to work ! " 
 
 " Blainey, how much talent have I ? " she asked pas- 
 sionately. " No compliments ! Give me the truth ! 
 It may mean a lot ! " 
 
 "I don't know!" 
 
 " And yet " 
 
 " Talent be damned ! " he said royally, as he said a 
 dozen times a day. " Art be damned ! It ain't tal-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 471 
 
 cnt, it's personality that counts personality and ad- 
 vertising. Personality, kid, is the reason we build the 
 stage three feet above the orchestra, to keep the bald 
 heads from coming over. Do you think I'm in this 
 God-forsaken business thirty-four years, and don't 
 know the tricks ? You'll be talking art to me next ! " 
 
 "And I have personality?" she said doubtfully. 
 
 He smiled hugely. 
 
 "Would you be sitting here if you hadn't?" 
 
 " And you want to marry me, after all you know 
 about me? " she asked solemnly. It was the one thing 
 she did not like. Why was it impossible for her to 
 go her way, free and irresponsible, as men went? 
 Why was it that all sought this absolute control over 
 her liberty? And yet, she was genuinely touched that 
 Blainey, believing what he must, should have made the 
 offer. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " My old dad ran a milk-wagon over in Brooklyn," 
 he said. " I've pulled myself up by my boot-straps, 
 and pretty much of everything has stuck to them on 
 the way. I know what life is, kid. I stopped judg- 
 ing long ago ! Leave that to a bunch of snobs in Fifth 
 Avenue churches. Whatever you've done, you'd look 
 like a white spot against me! " 
 
 "Blainey, I'll tell you something!" she said sud- 
 denly. " You've got me wrong ! I'm as straight as 
 they make 'em ! " 
 
 " Don't lie, kid ! It ain't necessary." 
 
 " Look at me ! It's God's truth ! " she exclaimed 
 vehemently.
 
 472 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Honest ? " he said, opening his eyes. 
 
 "Honest!" 
 
 "Well, I'll be damned!" 
 
 " Blainey, you're an awfully good sort!" she said 
 genuinely. 
 
 " Damned few would agree with you ! " he said 
 grimly. 
 
 " You've always been with me ! Why ? " 
 
 "'Cause I'm a sentimental nature!" he said, grin- 
 ning. "Well, kid, how about it?" 
 
 " Well, Blainey, it may be yes ! I shouldn't be sur- 
 prised!" 
 
 He started up eagerly, with a look that somehow 
 spoiled it all. She retreated instinctively, and per- 
 ceiving it, he was clever enough to retain his seat, say- 
 ing: 
 
 " When will you know ? " 
 
 "To-night!" 
 
 " Telephone me here or at the hotel. Now, one 
 thing more. This marriage means freedom to each 
 no spying and no interfering ! It's a sentimental 
 business contract for life. Savvy?" 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " That's the best way ! " 
 
 "You're free I'm free!" 
 
 She nodded again, giving him her hand. 
 
 " Now I must go," she said hastily, with a glance 
 at the clock. She went to the door, while he watched 
 her without a word. Suddenly she turned. " If I 
 decide, I want it over to-night! Do you under- 
 stand?"
 
 THE SALAMANDER 473 
 
 He nodded seriously. She smiled and went lightly 
 out. 
 
 When she reached her room again she received a 
 shock. Snyder informed her that Lindaberry had 
 called twice, once while they were at luncheon, and 
 again at three. Dodo was in a panic at the news, ex- 
 pected though it was. Josephus had informed her of 
 Nebbins' insistent queries. All that she had planned 
 dramatically, which now she wished to avoid, was ris- 
 ing up to confound her. She turned breathlessly on 
 Snyder. 
 
 " You saw Mr. Lindaberry ? " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " He was here? Long? " 
 
 " About an hour ! " 
 
 "Then you talked to him?" she persisted, sud- 
 denly suspicious. 
 
 " So-so," said Snyder evasively. 
 
 "What did you talk about? What did you say? 
 What did you tell him about me ? You didn't discuss 
 did he leave a message?" 
 
 " No, he left no message ! " said Snyder obstinately. 
 
 " When is he coming back ? You know ! " 
 
 "No, I don't know!" 
 
 "Snyder!" 
 
 " I don't know ! " she repeated, shrugging her shoul- 
 ders and escaping into the other room, leaving Dodo 
 in a torment of suspense, half inclined to flight. 
 
 She could explain whatever she intended doing to 
 Blainey, to Massingale even, but not to Lindaberry. 
 The thing was unthinkable. And she was afraid of
 
 474 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 his coming, for she was afraid to destroy the illusion, 
 fragile and beautiful, which she had built of herself 
 in his soul. To undeceive him, to let him see her as 
 she believed she really was, brought her pain that she 
 could not endure. And at that moment, as the town 
 clock was methodically beating out the hour of five, 
 she stopped abruptly, suddenly recalled to Massingale 
 by the sound of his step on the stairs, torn between 
 hope and fear, but inwardly steeling herself against 
 the shock of disillusionment which she was certain 
 awaited her with the opening of the door.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 WHEN a man has taken a step across those lim- 
 its which society imposes on his conduct, he 
 immediately begins, with a certain anxiety, to seek for 
 the visible results in those events, ordinary or ex- 
 traordinary, which affect his prosperity. From the 
 time of Massingale's meeting with Dodo, everything 
 had succeeded with him. He had had a period of un- 
 usual success in the stock market. Property which 
 he had accepted in lieu of a debt had unexpectedly 
 proved necessary to the approaches of a new bridge 
 and had returned him ten times its value. His ken- 
 nel had swept everything before it in the Dog Show, 
 and in the daily sessions at the card table his run of 
 luck had continued with extraordinary persistence. 
 Finally, the newspapers, lately, had given him columns 
 of publicity. Certain criticisms which he had passed 
 on the haphazard conduct of justice had been taken 
 up and had set in movement great machines of inves- 
 tigation, which threatened an overturn at the coming 
 municipal elections. As a consequence, he had re- 
 ceived proffers of advancement, and a political career 
 seemed within his reach. 
 
 Whatever vague rumblings of conscience may have 
 stirred within him, they were, in a measure, stilled by 
 these evidences of the good favor in which he stood 
 
 475
 
 476 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 with Providence since Dodo's introduction into his 
 life. He was resolved to see in her the explanation 
 of all that was favorable, and he repeated, in daily 
 self- justification, that if she brought him this good 
 luck, there could be no great harm, else a moral 
 Heaven certainly would not continue to shower him 
 with blessings. He did not express the feeling in so 
 many words, but it existed, half avowed, as often, 
 when tendered a match, he would say to himself : 
 
 "If it remains lighted until it reaches me, it is a fa- 
 vorable sign ! " 
 
 The first disagreeable shock had come in the form 
 of a message from Harrigan Blood saying that he 
 would oppose any attempt to raise Massingale to the 
 Court of General Sessions. The message was deliv- 
 ered by a mutual friend with intimations that, on ac- 
 count of certain sides of his personal life, it would be 
 better not to lay himself open to the attack of a. vin- 
 dictive antagonist. The truth was that Harrigan 
 Blood, since the day when Dodo had been so unfor- 
 tunately inspired as to bring them together, had con- 
 ceived the idea that the luncheon had been arranged 
 with the express purpose of making him ridiculous, 
 and that Massingale had been a party to the plot. 
 From the first he had felt the humiliation of the 
 role he had been forced to play with Dodo. The 
 quarrel with Sassoon had been costly; his sense of 
 pride had been cruelly tried; on top of which the 
 thought that she had paraded him for the delectation 
 of a favored rival was unbearable to his sensitive vain 
 nature. He took his revenge thus, from a need of
 
 THE SALAMANDER 477 
 
 feeling that at the end the ridicule would not rest on 
 his side. Massingale knew the man too well to have 
 any doubts as to his yielding. If the political cam- 
 paign were to be entered, he saw now that it would 
 mean a distressing facing of every indignity. It was 
 the threat, perhaps, more than the deprivation, that 
 annoyed him; for at the bottom he had now come to 
 a full realization of the utter disorganization which 
 the pursuit of Dodo must inevitably bring him. 
 
 The morality of a man of the world after forty is 
 largely a question of what is, and what is not, done. 
 Massingale, without being aware of it, possessed this 
 code to an unusual degree. Petty political grafting 
 was something of which he would have been simply 
 incapable, from a pride of caste. There were certain 
 vices that were associated with a lower order of hu- 
 man beings. Courage, in such surroundings, was as 
 requisite to a gentleman as recklessness before the 
 consequences of a five-foot leap in the hunting-field. 
 So, with Dore, his moral code of good manners 
 (which might be expressed as eligibility to club mem- 
 bership) could not permit what, to the eyes of the 
 world, must appear as a deliberate seduction. De- 
 spite the depths of infatuation into which he had 
 plunged, the genuine outcry of his whole nature, the 
 intense and ceaseless longing with which he was con- 
 sumed, he never for a moment contemplated anything 
 but the permissible: divorce and remarriage. 
 
 This decisive step he had contemplated now for 
 more than two months, approaching and retreating. 
 At times he had been on the point of breaking in
 
 478 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 tempestuously on his wife and delivering an ulti- 
 matum, and the next day he had thanked heaven for 
 the accident that had prevented a crisis. He was 
 afraid of Dodo. Never for a moment had he placed 
 the slightest faith in her romantic dramatization of a 
 lawless elopement. Beyond that, a future in which she 
 should join him as his wife was illegible to his eyes. 
 He was too profoundly sensible of the utter change 
 she had effected in his life not to fear where he might 
 follow. He found that she consumed his day; that 
 only the moments spent with her were vital. His 
 old associations bored him. 
 
 His club friends of his age seemed hopelessly and 
 incomprehendingly old. In their presence he felt un- 
 accountably young, eager for youth. The evenings 
 when Dodo punished him by departing with mysterious 
 others were intolerably long and heavy. And then he 
 suffered! He came to know all the torments of jeal- 
 ousy, hatred and submission violently reacting. 
 
 A little thing had perhaps more influence on his de- 
 cision at this moment than anything else the ring 
 which Lindaberry had given Dodo, and of which she 
 would furnish no explanation. This ring haunted 
 him, terrified him. He was a keen enough observer 
 to perceive instinctively its threat that back of it 
 was a deep import, not a mere passing entanglement of 
 a week. Something else there was in her life, of 
 major importance, he felt, strong enough to threaten 
 him. Finally, on the night he had taken Dodo in his 
 car after her meeting with Nebbins, this feeling of 
 jealousy and alarm had become so intensified that he
 
 THE SALAMANDER 479 
 
 had suddenly flung the future to the winds, and de- 
 termined to be rid of the pain, the frenzy and the 
 miserable longing which his resistance brought him in 
 daily torture. 
 
 When he returned to his home, he learned from the 
 footman at the door that Mrs. Massingale had en- 
 tered half an hour before. He went directly to her 
 rooms, giving himself no time for hesitation or re- 
 flection. 
 
 " Who is it ? " cried a startled voice at his knock. 
 
 " It's I; may I come in? " 
 
 " But I'm not dressed ! Is it serious? " 
 
 " Yes ! Put on a dressing-gown ! " 
 
 A moment later he entered. His wife, a frail, neu- 
 rasthenic, thinly pretty woman of forty, was standing 
 with a peignoir hastily clutched about her, a towel in 
 hand, hastily rubbing off the cream with which her 
 maid had been industriously massaging her face. On 
 the dressing-table was a heap of hair in disordered 
 braids. The mellow shades on the electric candles 
 flung frightened shadows on the sharp oval face and 
 the penciled eyebrows, that took flight above the nerv- 
 ous eyes, now white with an exaggerated alarm. 
 
 " Send " he did not even know the name of his 
 wife's maid " send her away ! " 
 
 " Lucille, laisses-moi; je vous sonnerai plus tard! " 
 Mrs. Massingale said directly, her eyes on her hus- 
 band's face. She went to the door, closing it and came 
 swiftly back. 
 
 " Harold, what is it ? " she cried breathlessly. 
 " Are we ruined? "
 
 480 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " No ! " he said, with a touch of irony in his voice. 
 " No ; it is not money matters ! " 
 
 She had seen the specter of bankruptcy before her 
 eyes at his incomprehensible entrance. She shud- 
 dered and regained her self-control with a sigh, clos- 
 ing her wrapper more tightly over the disarray at her 
 breast, as if suddenly aware of impropriety in the 
 presence of this man who had entered her rooms 
 after years. 
 
 " Sit down! " he said, straddling a chair and resting 
 his arms on the back. " Clara, I am very I am ex- 
 ceedingly unhappy ! " 
 
 At the sound of his voice, more than from the au- 
 thority in his manner, her alarm flashed up anew. She 
 seated herself hesitatingly, scenting instinctively the 
 approach of some formless danger. For a second she 
 had a grotesque thought, caused by the sudden irrup- 
 tion on her cherished privacy, that he was going to 
 ask her to surrender her own apartment and return to 
 his. 
 
 " Well, well! What is it? " she asked, finally pre- 
 pared to resist such brutality. 
 
 " Clara, I want my liberty ! " 
 
 She relaxed a little. His liberty? She had never 
 for a moment opposed that! 
 
 "This life I am leading is a ghastly mockery! I 
 want it to end ! I want to be able to lead my own life. 
 I want a divorce ! " 
 
 She rose in her seat, stretched out her hand and 
 stammered : 
 
 "What?"
 
 THE SALAMANDER 481 
 
 " I have come to tell you that I am resolved to di- 
 vorce ! " 
 
 "Divorce!" 
 
 All at once she fell back, limp and swooning, her 
 head fallen forward on her breast. He rose, searched 
 among the bottles, found smelling-salts, and methodic- 
 ally, not quite convinced, held them to her nostrils. 
 Then, when she started, he placed the bottle on her lap 
 and resumed his seat 
 
 Her first emotion, on returning from the dizziness 
 which had not been altogether assumed, was one of 
 profound astonishment. After almost twenty years 
 of married life, when she felt the completest security, 
 when her life had run smoothest along the roads she 
 herself had directed, all at once everything was threat- 
 ened, without her being able to perceive at what point 
 she had committed an error. 
 
 " You said divorce ? " she said weakly, staring 
 at him. 
 
 ' Yes ! I have come to ask you to make no opposi- 
 tion, if I make whatever provision you desire for 
 yourself." 
 
 Before the detail of his manner she could no longer 
 cherish any doubt. She became suddenly the woman 
 of astuteness and cunning that she really was, gather- 
 ing every energy to ward off the blow. 
 
 '' You are not serious ! It is impossible that you 
 can be serious ! " she began. She rose quickly, and 
 gliding to the door, assured herself that Lucille was 
 not eavesdropping. 
 
 " I never was more serious in my life ! "
 
 482 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " Then let me say right here and I will never 
 change," she said, returning defiantly, " I am Mrs. 
 Massingale. That is my name ; that is my position in 
 the world. I will never surrender it. I will never, 
 never consent to a divorce, on any grounds whatso- 
 ever!" 
 
 " Let us discuss ! " he said quietly, resolved to push 
 the matter no further than the statement of intention, 
 and, above all, to preserve his self-respect. 
 
 " Discuss? There is nothing to discuss ! " she cried, 
 with rising anger. " What have you to reproach me 
 with? I have been a faithful wife all my married 
 life. I have never made you ridiculous ; I have never 
 dishonored your name! Of how many women can 
 you say the same in our world? I have run your 
 house for you, and I have let you go your way, lead 
 your life, do as you pleased, without complaint ! And 
 now, I am the one to be sacrificed ? Never ! You may 
 have your idea of marriage. I have mine! I regard 
 it as a holy sacrament that nothing can divide but 
 death!" 
 
 " Clara, I warn you," he said quietly, " that the mat- 
 ter is too serious for scenes. I am fully resolved ! " 
 
 " So am I ! " 
 
 "May I ask you what our marriage has been?" 
 he said, growing angry in spite of himself. " Yes, I 
 believe in all you say, when marriage is a marriage! 
 But when it is simply a convenient legal phrase to yoke 
 together two human beings who have not the slightest 
 interest in common in the world " 
 
 "What?"
 
 THE SALAMANDER 483 
 
 " My dear Clara," he said icily, " let me say a few 
 plain words to you! We have lived twenty years to- 
 gether as you have wished it and as I have agreed. 
 This house might be a hotel, and we passing guests, 
 for all the marriage there has been to it! Let's go 
 back ! You married me for money and position ! " 
 
 " Harold ! I " 
 
 " Don't lie ! " he said, forced at last into the inevi- 
 table brutality of matrimonial discussion. " You 
 never loved me ! You loved what I had to give you ! 
 Come, you're not going to pretend, now, that there ever 
 was a question of love in it? But then I thought so! 
 You were very clever! More, you even made me be- 
 lieve you, a young girl that you loved me pas- 
 sionately, that you were capable of passion ! You suc- 
 ceeded, as you intended, in carrying me off my feet ! " 
 
 She looked at him, incapable of retort, overwhelmed 
 with shame. She had never believed, in all these 
 years, that he had comprehended this. 
 
 " Afterward I discovered the truth ! " he continued. 
 " I found I had united myself fatuously with a per- 
 fectly cold woman, to whom I was even repulsive ! " 
 
 "Harold!" 
 
 "Physically speaking!" he added. "Who was 
 cunningly intent on pushing me out of the way, and 
 building up a hollow, conventionally brilliant, social life 
 of her own. I ended by shrugging my shoulders and 
 taking what I could out of the world in an amused, 
 dilettante way. Every word I say is true ! And now, 
 when at forty-five I have the chance to live the life you 
 denied me, you would stop me by any such mum-
 
 484 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 mery as the sacredness of this marriage! What? 
 You would prevent me now when I come to you gently, 
 quietly, and say to you : ' I love, I want to live, I want 
 to be free from a bond that is nothing to you, to know 
 what is real ' when I ask you to give me a chance to 
 find in another what you scorn to give! " 
 
 "But you speak only of the physical!" she cried, 
 aghast. 
 
 " No ; I speak of the difference between the living 
 and the dead! " he cried passionately. " I speak of a 
 woman who, when she is in your arms, clings to you 
 and cries out words of love, whose eyes shine with 
 your coming, who listens for your step, who doesn't 
 hide behind prudery, but adores you as a living, throb- 
 bing human being, who is not ashamed of her love, who 
 is natural, whose lips have kisses and whose arms seize 
 you to her, who has youth, fire, life! " 
 
 " But you are mad, infatuated ! You don't know 
 what you are saying!" she cried, recoiling in terror. 
 " But then, you wish to marry again ! " 
 
 " Again ? No ! I want a real marriage ! " he cried. 
 
 There was a pause, during which he brought himself 
 back to calm, and she rapidly ran over in her mind the 
 possible woman in her own set who might have thus 
 awakened him. 
 
 " Clara, do not let us lose our sense of dignity," he 
 said solemnly. " I do not expect you to answer to- 
 night." 
 
 " I will never consent ! " she cried, flaring up. 
 
 " I don't expect your answer to-night," he repeated 
 slowly. " I shall return here to-morrow afternoon at
 
 THE SALAMANDER 485 
 
 four. By that time you will have reflected; you will 
 perceive the monstrous iniquity of keeping me from a 
 happiness that is perfectly indifferent to you. More- 
 over, I will make any settlement on you that you indi- 
 cate. You will probably realize by that time that noth- 
 ing in your mode of living need be changed ; this house 
 shall be yours ; all that is sacrificed is a little vanity, the 
 public recognition of a loss that has never meant any- 
 thing to you ! " 
 
 " Wait ! " she said, with a rapid calculation. " Do 
 I know the woman? Is it one of my friends? " 
 
 " It is not ! It is some one, a young girl, from an 
 entirely different world," he replied, and went out. 
 
 She remained embattled, and yet with the hovering 
 sense of defeat, striving to explain the catastrophe. 
 
 " Ah, if I had had a child this never could have hap- 
 pened ! " she cried all at once, striking her forehead. 
 
 Despite his assurance, the next day, after a night of 
 horror, she called up a dozen friends, seeking fruit- 
 lessly to learn of the woman. She consulted three of 
 her most particular confidantes as to what course she 
 should adopt. All three agreed on absolute resistance. 
 The first said to her: 
 
 " My dear, treat him as a friend. Be sympathetic ! 
 Find out who she is. Point out to him that she is in- 
 triguing for his money. Act, not as an enemy, but as 
 an adviser! " 
 
 The second added: 
 
 " Pretend to consider the proposition ; then ask him 
 for a year's delay, for his sake and for yours, to be 
 sure that it is not a passing infatuation. In a year, es-
 
 486 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 pecially if there is no opposition, great changes can 
 take place ! " 
 
 The third agreed with the others, with this addi- 
 tion: 
 
 " In a year he will either grow tired of her, or she 
 will have become his mistress, and he may become 
 thoroughly satisfied with the arrangement. Whatever 
 you do, delay ! " 
 
 At four o'clock, as the last adviser was hurrying 
 out, Massingale entered. She was instantly struck 
 with the intensity of the emotion that consumed him, 
 which laid the telltale shadows of its fatigue in the hol- 
 lows about his eyes and the stern drawn lines of his 
 mouth. 
 
 " Before we go any further," she said carefully, 
 " since I am to be sacrificed, may I at least ask you a 
 few questions ? " 
 
 " That is fair ! " he said, deceived by her tone into 
 a bounding hope that she would consent. 
 
 " Are you perfectly sure of this young girl, 
 Harold?" 
 
 "Absolutely!" 
 
 "Who is she?" 
 
 He hesitated a moment. 
 
 " She is twenty-two ; she is from the Middle West ; 
 she has been a little on the stage." 
 
 " And you are sure that she is disinterested ? " 
 
 "Absolutely!" 
 
 " You are at the age when men are victims of such 
 infatuations ! " she said, looking down. " Perhaps I 
 myself have been to blame! If you will wait a year,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 487 
 
 be sure, positively sure " she stopped, blushed red, 
 and said rapidly " I will try to be to you, Harold, 
 all that you want." 
 
 Even in the tensity of the moment, the incongruity 
 of this unexpected solution struck him as so sublimely 
 ludicrous that he laughed aloud. Also he perceived 
 her maneuver, at once undeceived. She drew herself 
 up, stung to the soul, prey to an anger that swept aside 
 all caution. 
 
 " Well, no ! I will never consent ! You shall never 
 have a divorce so long as I can stop it ! Go, live with 
 your mistress." 
 
 " She is not my mistress ! " he said, white with 
 anger. 
 
 " A girl on the stage ! You are ridiculous ! You 
 will make yourself the laughing-stock of New York, 
 my dear fellow, with your little girl ! And you think 
 she loves you ? Fool ! don't you know what her game 
 is?" 
 
 " Don't judge all women by yourself, Clara Bayne ! " 
 he said between his teeth, giving her her girlhood 
 name. But instantly, digging his nails in his hands, 
 he said in a different tone : " I beg your pardon ! 
 I am very irritated, in a very nervous state. I don't 
 want to lose control of myself! Clara, you are too 
 generous, too honest a woman, deliberately to force 
 her to be my mistress ! " 
 
 "I force her?" she cried furiously. "If she has 
 taken the love of a married man, she is that already! 
 Let her go on ! " 
 
 " Do you mean this ? " he said sternly.
 
 488 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " I certainly do ! " 
 
 " You will not give the woman I love and respect 
 the right to be my wife to love me honestly before 
 the world ? Do you mean this ? " 
 
 " I am your wife, and you shall never take that from 
 me!" 
 
 '' You have never been my wife! " he cried, beside 
 himself. " You, a pure girl, deliberately set about to 
 win me, as a cocote does! Wife? You have taken 
 my money to pay for your pleasures and your luxuries, 
 and you have not even been my mistress! You a 
 moral woman ! " 
 
 " How dare you ? " she cried, unrecognizable in her 
 rage. 
 
 " A last time. Will you permit me to get a di- 
 vorce ? " 
 
 " No ! " She uttered it as a shriek, fallen back 
 against the wall. 
 
 "Then, madam, I will force you to do it!" he ex- 
 claimed, slamming his fist on a little table with such 
 violence that it sent a shower of books clattering to the 
 floor. 
 
 He left her clinging to the wall, choking with rage, 
 descended to his car, and gave Dodo's address. The 
 interview had left him in just that state of frenzy he 
 needed to do the thing he would have hesitated long to 
 do in his day of calm. The life that he had claimed 
 from his wife rose up doubly precious to him for the 
 proclaiming. He would cut off his wife without a 
 cent ; he would force her to sue him for abandonment, 
 if not from shame, from positive necessity. Anyhow,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 489 
 
 the die was cast! He had cut away from all the old 
 life! He would go with Dodo to-night, racing into 
 the new, as she had wished. After a few months, a 
 year, abroad, traveling in hidden countries, when his 
 wife had come to her senses and procured a divorce, he 
 would marry Dodo. They would not come back to 
 New York, but the world was wide. Marriage ex- 
 alted everything. He would not be the first so to do. 
 Abroad, in Paris, London, Rome, such romances were 
 understood. He jumped out and ran hastily up the 
 stairs, knocked, and came tempestuously into the 
 room. 
 
 He saw her with hands clasped over her breast, 
 standing tremulously sweet, swaying with fear of his 
 coming. He held but his arms, caught her violently 
 to him, buried his head in the cool regions of her neck, 
 caressed by the fragrant youth of her hair, uttering 
 but one word : 
 
 "Come!" 
 
 She heard it, rather frightened, alarmed, too, at the 
 personal disorder that shook him like a leaf, alarmed 
 at the man who had at last come to where she had 
 wished him. She said to herself, incredulously, that 
 she was happy wildly, deliriously happy ; and she re- 
 mained quiet, passing her hands soothingly over his 
 bent head, alert, as if listening for some sound in the 
 air. 
 
 " You will come ? " he said suddenly, holding her 
 from him. 
 
 " Yes ! " she said in a whisper. 
 
 " Now to-night far off with me ? "
 
 490 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 "Yes! How has it happened?" she said breath- 
 lessly. " Why now ? Why are you willing, all at 
 once? " 
 
 " Because I no longer care for anything else but 
 you!" he cried "friends, career, reputation. Be- 
 cause I can't live without you, Dodo ! Because noth- 
 ing else in life is life but you! Because I've come to 
 hate it all the rest ! Dodo, I love you ! I can't be 
 without you ! " 
 
 " At last ! " she said mechanically, staring at him. 
 
 She did not draw away, though his lips sought hers. 
 She longed for that oblivion which had first come to 
 her in his arms, that quieting of the senses that drew 
 the day from before her eyes and closed her ears to 
 all but the faintest, far-off murmurings. She did not 
 resist, but eagerly awaited this masculine mastery that 
 once had awakened all the slumbering passionate fires 
 within her. She wanted to forget again, to be over- 
 whelmed, balanced in his arms, a weak contented 
 thing, leaping hungrily to his contact, delirious and on 
 fire. But no such oblivion arrived. She felt herself 
 poignantly awake, curiously, critically conscious of a 
 hundred questions against her brain, wondering at 
 him, at his frenzy feeling none herself, nor knowing 
 why. 
 
 All at once from the other room the voice of Snyder 
 startled them, singing raucously : 
 
 " Who are you with to-night, to-night ? 
 Oh, who are you with to-night? 
 Will you tell your wife in the morning 
 Who you are with to-night ? "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 491 
 
 He straightened up suddenly, recollecting himself. 
 
 " Ah, no ! Don't go ! " she cried, as she had on that 
 first night when they had been swept together. He 
 seemed so strange to her now! She wanted to have 
 time to know him, this new Massingale ! 
 
 " No, no ! " he said hoarsely. " I don't dare I 
 can't it's beyond me ! Dodo, at seven o'clock can 
 you be ready? " 
 
 " Two hours only ! " 
 
 " Take only a valise. Let everything be new ! Can 
 you do it ? " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " I will go and arrange my affairs, make prepara- 
 tions and be back here at seven precisely. We'll dine, 
 and then the night express for the West, as you 
 wished ! " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " I will telephone. You will come down. I will be 
 at the corner, waiting, at seven ! " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 He caught her again in his arms, lifting her off her 
 feet, half mad with recklessness and impatience, and 
 started toward the door. Suddenly he turned, came 
 back, and catching her shoulders in his two hands, 
 looked at her savagely. 
 
 " What is it? " she said faintly. Could this be what 
 she had made of Massingale? 
 
 " I am throwing everything to the winds, Dodo ! 
 giving up my whole life for you ! " he said breathlessly. 
 "You will come, Dodo?" 
 
 " I will I must ! " she said in wonder.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 MASSINGALE had come so tempestuously, had 
 gone so like a roaring blast, that she had felt 
 swept up and whirled about in a revolving, benumbing 
 cycle. She followed him in a daze to the hall, lean- 
 ing over the balusters, watching the slipping white of 
 his hand descend and vanish. She crossed to the win- 
 dow, peering through the blurred dripping panes for a 
 last sight of his skidding car. Then she returned, 
 perceived the door left open, closed it and came in- 
 credulously back. 
 
 "So I am going! It's all decided. All!" 
 she whispered. 
 
 It was no longer the fabric of dreams, but actuality, 
 that confronted her. This was new, uncomprehended, 
 despite all her dramatizations. This was a fact. She 
 was to leave in two hours, vanish forever from the cur- 
 ious massive room, with its bel fried clock over the 
 roofs and its blank brick wall at the side, out into the 
 gray restlessness of a March night. Whither? With 
 whom ? With a strange man a Massingale she had 
 wrought herself, and whom she now scarcely recog- 
 nized. 
 
 " I love him. I said I would go ! It's what I've 
 wanted all along ! " she repeated, struck by the idea. 
 
 " Yes, that's true ; it's what I've wanted ! " 
 
 492
 
 THE SALAMANDER 493 
 
 But now there was a difference. For the first time, 
 it was not she who sought to incite him to misty ro- 
 mance, but the man himself who had come and asked. 
 It was no longer a question of how he loved, where he 
 would go at her beckoning, her will over him. All this 
 had been miraculously achieved. It was now only a 
 matter of what she would do, and she had said that 
 she would go in two short hours! She remained 
 immovable and listening, and already it seemed to her 
 that she felt the shaken iron rush of a flying train, 
 hurrying her onward into the unknown. 
 
 "Snyder!" 
 
 Terrified, overwhelmed with loneliness, she had cried 
 out, longing for a human soul to listen, ready to pour 
 out her whole story in confidence. But no answer re- 
 turned. She went hastily to the door and flung it 
 open. The room was empty, filled only with the 
 vague shadows in the same barren dusk that pervaded 
 her own. She returned, lighted the feeble gas-jet by 
 her bed, and going to the embrasure of the window, sat 
 down, her hands weakly in her lap, her head thrown 
 back, gazing inertly at the yellow clock-face rising 
 through the rain flurries. 
 
 No! This Massingale was not the man who had 
 held her in fascination by his quiet mastery, whom she 
 had despaired ever to move! Yet she had wished to 
 see him thus, uncontrolled, at her feet, wild and 
 shaken! She had wished it; yet, at the bottom, had 
 she ever really believed it possible? Now, the spec- 
 tacle of his disorder rather terrified her, and this terror 
 brought a certain liberation. She was satisfied; she
 
 494 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 could wish for no completer victory over this man who, 
 by a trick of fate, scarce five months ago had caught 
 and tamed her. How the roles were reversed ! How 
 abject was now his surrender! For her he was sacri- 
 ficing everything career, friends, family, all to go 
 out with her into dark ways. What had she wrought, 
 a miracle or a crime ? 
 
 " I must pack ; I must make ready ! " she said to 
 herself. But she did not rise. No longer framing 
 her thoughts, lost in indefmiteness, prey to a heavy 
 mental stupor, her hands lay weakly in her lap, her 
 head thrown back, staring. Later her fingers stopped 
 upon the sharp facets of the ring which had been 
 pledged as a troth. Garry! What should she say to 
 him? How make him understand? She rose 
 heavily, and going to the writing-desk, brought back 
 pad and pencil. Slowly, seeing dimly the sheet on her 
 lap, she began : 
 
 "Garry dear: I am going away " 
 
 She stopped. She could not add another word. 
 What could be added? The pencil slipped from her 
 fingers, the pad slid finally to the floor. She returned 
 again into the stupor, incapable of thought or action, 
 waiting, seeing only the jerky advance of a minute- 
 hand around the yellow surface, until an hour had gone 
 by without a single preparation. 
 
 All at once a tear gathered in her eye and went 
 slowly down her cheek a tear of profound fatigue, 
 of listlessness, rather than the touch of an aching 
 thought. This tear, hot and unbidden, seemed to dis-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 495 
 
 sipate, all at once, the frigidity of her mind. She sat 
 up hastily, with a frightened glance at the clock. It 
 was already past six. 
 
 "What am I doing?" she thought, dismayed. 
 " He's coming ! I must hurry ! " 
 
 She went to the closet and brought out a dress-suit- 
 case, laid it open across a table and gazed helplessly 
 about her. What next? 
 
 Ten minutes later, Snyder, coming hastily in, found 
 her camped on the floor, sorting an enormous pile of 
 stockings, which she rolled and unrolled without de- 
 cision. Nothing had yet been placed in the open suit- 
 case, though every drawer was ajar and every trunk- 
 lid up. 
 
 " Dodo ! " cried Snyder, with a rapid survey. " In 
 the name of heaven, what are you up to? " 
 
 Snyder's arrival was like a ray of hope to Dore. 
 She rose quickly, her strength of mind suddenly re- 
 stored at last some one to whom she could talk, to 
 whom she could tell of the great romance that was 
 sweeping her on ! 
 
 " Snyder, I'm leaving now, at seven o'clock," she 
 said firmly. 
 
 " Leaving, honey? For how long? " 
 
 " I guess forever, Snyder ! " she answered, with a 
 little shortness of breath. 
 
 Snyder, with a quick motion, flung off her rain- 
 coat, rolling it in a ball and hurling it through the open 
 door into her room. Then she went rapidly to Dodo, 
 grasping her arms, peering into her face, crying : 
 
 " Dodo ! That Massingale ? "
 
 496 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 She nodded, answering aggressively: 
 
 "I adore him!" 
 
 The woman recoiled, wringing her hands, overcome 
 with grief, crying: 
 
 " Oh, petty, petty ! I knew it would come ! O God 
 of mercy ! " 
 
 " But, Snyder, I am happy ! " Dore said. Yet the 
 words seemed to her heavy, there in the shadowy 
 room, watching, amazed, the agony of affection and 
 terror that shook the woman. 
 
 " Happy ! " cried Snyder, with a mocking laugh. 
 " God! Do you know what you are doing? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know ! " Suddenly a thought struck 
 her, and she added hastily : " Snyder, you are wrong ! 
 It isn't Massingale. It's I who have done it all ! " 
 
 " That's what you think ! " 
 
 "No, no jit's so!" 
 
 "Where are you going?" 
 
 "I don't know!" 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " To-night ! " 
 
 "And after?" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "And after?" 
 
 " I don't understand ! " 
 
 "What's he going to do? Give up his wife? Di- 
 vorce her?" 
 
 "No, no!" 
 
 " And after ! what's to become of you? " 
 
 Dodo \vas silent. All the fantastic scheme she had 
 imagined a year, and then each to return seemed
 
 THE SALAMANDER 497 
 
 so inadequate an answer now. All at once Snyder, 
 in a sudden rage, bounded to the table, and catching 
 the suit-case, flung it scurrying across the room. 
 
 " No, petty ! You shan't do it ! I won't let him. 
 I'll kill him first!" 
 
 " Snyder, Snyder, you don't understand ! " she 
 cried. 
 
 "Don't I? I know! Honey, I tell you, I know! 
 You're the one who don't understand! Honey, I tell 
 you, it ain't a fair world! No; it's a rotten unfair 
 world! The chances ain't equal! A woman ain't a 
 man! Think of your own security first, honey. 
 You've got to, or God help you! I know! " 
 
 "What do you mean, Snyder?" 
 
 " I mean, you shan't do what I did ! " said the 
 woman, clutching her arm " what I did blindly ! " 
 
 "You weren't " 
 
 " Married ? Never ! You didn't know it ? I 
 thought you guessed. The others did ! " 
 
 " No, no ! I thought, at times but I didn't 
 know!" 
 
 "Do you know where I had my child?" she said, 
 folding her arms across her heart and flinging back 
 her head as if to breast a storm. " I, nineteen years 
 old, a girl? In a charity hospital, between a black 
 woman and a raging shrieking dago with the fear of 
 death in her! The story? Hell! Any one's story! 
 What does that matter? Anyhow, I believed! I had 
 ideas, like you: liberty, woman same as man. That 
 suited him! It suits them all! What do they risk? 
 Honey, if I told you what I went through those last
 
 498 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 months, you'd never look at a man again ! You think 
 I'm bitter, hard? Yes, I am hard, through and 
 through ! And I believed in him. And proud ? God ! 
 how proud I was ! " 
 
 " Snyder! Snyder! " She put out her hands as if 
 to ward off the picture that rose luridly to her eyes. 
 
 " You don't know no woman knows what the hell 
 of suffering is," she continued doggedly, " until they're 
 caught, until they've got to bring into the world an- 
 other soul, and you stand branded, with every tongue 
 against you! God! What a world! You marry 
 you're safe ! You can be a fiend incarnate, lower than 
 the gutter. Nothing to say! But the other? To be 
 a girl, to believe, to love, to bear a child, as God in- 
 tended you to, in love every one against you, your 
 own family cursin' you, closing the doors on you, tell- 
 ing you to go and starve ! Don't talk to me ! I know ! 
 Marry, honey, marry ! You've got to, in this world ! " 
 
 She was weeping now, and the sight of these un- 
 wonted tears on the iron countenance of Snyder terri- 
 fied Dodo more than all she had heard. She felt now 
 very little, very weak, far from the volatile Dodo of 
 dreams and fantasies. 
 
 " Oh, Snyder ! " she cried brokenly, " why didn't you 
 tell me before? I've misjudged you so! " 
 
 " Yes, you've done that ! " said Snyder, flinging 
 aw r ay the tears and coming back into the steeled atti- 
 tude again. " You thought I didn't care for the kid 
 for Betty; didn't you? " 
 
 Dodo nodded dumbly, great lumps in her throat. 
 
 " Why, honey, I love the ground she walks on ! I
 
 THE SALAMANDER 499 
 
 live for her! Every cent I can scrape together she's 
 to have! She's to go to the finest school, to get an 
 education. She's to marry, have a home! . . ." 
 
 " But then, Snyder, why put her away from you ? " 
 
 " Why ? " She stopped, drew a long breath, crossed 
 her arms with a characteristic brutal motion and said, 
 her face set in hardness: "That's the horror of it! 
 Because, honey, don't you see ? I'm training my- 
 self to do without her, training myself to go on with- 
 out depending on others, doing for myself. You don't 
 see? Supposin' I had her with me, bless her heart! 
 Supposin' I got to tying up my life to hers, needing 
 her, clinging to her ? Then what would come ? The 
 day would come when she'd learn the truth, and turn 
 against me. And God ! I couldn't stand anything 
 more ! " 
 
 " Oh, no, Snyder, she wouldn't ! " 
 
 " Yes, she would ! I know ! " she said, shrugging 
 her shoulders. " No. Better as it is ! I'm getting 
 used to myself. It's a rut, but it keeps me going ! " 
 
 Dodo sank into a chair, shuddering and cold, bury- 
 ing her face in her hands. 
 
 " Snyder ! Snyder 1 Why did you tell me ? " 
 
 " Because I love you, honey ! You know I love 
 you! I couldn't see anything hard happen to you! 
 It's not a fair world, petty! You've got to play the 
 game. A woman's got to think of her security first, 
 I tell you! For, when you get on the other side of 
 the wall, it's hell ! All your arguing about what ought 
 to be don't change it ! That's why I say to you, ' And 
 after ? ' Supposin' you can believe him, suppose he
 
 500 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 dies in the next months, where'll you turn ? It's a rot- 
 ten world. They're millions and millions, and you're 
 only just yourself! " 
 
 "Don't! Don't! No more!" she cried. "Oh, 
 Snyder, what am I going to do ? " 
 
 Yes, she felt this inequality now. Millions on mil- 
 lions against one, all her courage gone, dismayed, 
 aghast before the ugliness of reality. Courage? She 
 had none, not the slightest shred of daring left! She 
 drew back against the wall, huddled and little, so 
 weak, so tired, so unable to struggle any longer! 
 
 " Ah, what am I going to do? " 
 
 " I'll tell you, honey," said Snyder, starting toward 
 her with outstretched arms. But, as she advanced, 
 there came a knock, and answering Dodo's terrified 
 gesture by one of assurance, she went to the door. 
 
 " No one no one ! I can see no one ! " said Dodo, 
 recoiling. 
 
 Snyder received the card from Josephus, said some- 
 thing unintelligible, and came back radiant. One 
 glance at her face made Dodo suspect the truth. She 
 sprang forward with a frightened cry : 
 
 " Who is it? Snyder, tell me! " 
 
 But the woman, struggling, refused the card. 
 
 "It's not Garry? Not he?" she said frantically. 
 '* Any one but him! I won't see him! I won't! " 
 
 And, as she was still struggling to see the card, the 
 door opened and Garry came powerfully in. Dodo 
 stopped short, caught her throat with an exclama- 
 tion of terror, her head thrown back against the table,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 501 
 
 looking at the strong glowing figure with the light 
 of resurrection in his eyes; and as she looked, all at 
 once a beneficent calm seemed to fall about her, cloth- 
 ing her with peace. All the good she had ac- 
 complished was there. She looked at him, and she 
 knew ! 
 
 Snyder, gliding to him, said but three words: 
 
 "Now! At once!" 
 
 Then, drawing back, she remained by the door to 
 her room, her whole being concentrated on the scene, 
 her hands clasped as if in prayer. 
 
 He came directly to Dore, and lifted her up in his 
 arms, clear of the floor, not rapaciously or uncon- 
 trolled, as the acquisition of the other men, but cradling 
 her like a child, tender and strong, his lips on the light- 
 est fluttering golden tress of her hair. She felt no 
 passion, but a great thankfulness; and she closed her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Ah, Dodo, how have I ever lived a day from you ! " 
 he said rapidly. " Child, how I love you ! 
 tired little child, with such a great strength! 
 have I ever existed a day away from you? " 
 
 Suddenly he set her down reverently, and said 
 firmly : 
 
 " Now, put on your coat and hat ! " 
 
 She looked up at him, too tearfully happy to com- 
 prehend. 
 
 " Your coat and hat, and come ! " "he said, smiling 
 his strong adoring smile. 
 
 The next moment Snyder had stepped to her side,
 
 502 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 holding out her coat. She had one arm in, her eyes 
 on him, when suddenly she started away, comprehend- 
 ing. 
 
 " What do you mean? Where? " she asked breath- 
 lessly. 
 
 " To end all this, Dodo ! To marry me to begin 
 a real life our life! " he said firmly. 
 
 She went from him, shaking her head, putting out 
 her hands in her characteristic defensive gesture. 
 
 " No, no, Garry, I can't ! It wouldn't be fair it 
 wouldn't be just to you!" 
 
 " What wouldn't be fair ? Child, don't you realize 
 that you love me? " 
 
 " No, I don't, Garry; I don't know! " 
 
 " I know ! " he said triumphantly. " Every letter 
 you've written me has breathed it ! And now 
 Dodo, can you doubt?" 
 
 " Listen, Garry ! " she said, tormented with the fear 
 of harming him, righting against her own happiness. 
 "I do care for you! I always have! But how? 
 That I don't know! Garry, I tell you, I don't know 
 anything to-night, but that I'm a miserable weak crea- 
 ture! Wait! Wait until I can know! Until I can 
 be sure ! " 
 
 " Put on your coat now ! " he said, with a confident 
 laugh. 
 
 "No, no! Don't you see?" she cried, shrinking 
 away. " Don't you realize that I wouldn't harm you 
 for anything in the world? I won't come to you un- 
 til I'm sure I love you you, and only you ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 503 
 
 " You will come now with me, and end all this non- 
 sense ! " 
 
 " To-morrow ! " 
 
 " No, to-night ! " 
 
 "But if I don't love you?" 
 
 " If you don't now, you will love me! " he said im- 
 movably. " Come, this must be ended ! You're al- 
 most crazy now ! You can't think or act ! I'll take all 
 responsibilities ! " 
 
 He strode up to her, the coat in his hands, holding it 
 out as she still shrank away. 
 
 "Oh, Garry! It isn't right! I haven't any 
 strength left. I don't know anything! I'm not my- 
 self no, I'm not myself ! Be generous ! " 
 
 " What are you afraid of? Of not loving me? " he 
 cried. 
 
 "Yes yes! Of not of not " She caught 
 her voice and cried : " Oh, Garry ! I am not worthy 
 of you! I'm a vain, foolish, wild creature! You 
 don't know me how wicked I am! But I won't 
 harm you ! I wouldn't be unjust ! Please ! Please ! " 
 
 She was struggling now, with a yielding strength. 
 He caught her arms and drew her coat over them. 
 
 " Dodo, dear, I know ! Believe me, I know ! " 
 
 " But to-morrow ? " 
 
 " No, now ! Come ! I'll take all responsibility ! " 
 
 Abruptly, stridently, the telephone rang, and with it 
 the booming notes of seven o'clock. 
 
 She gave a cry, frantic, remembering Massingale. 
 
 "No, no! Never! Not to-night! I will not!"
 
 504 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 He stepped between her and the still ringing tele- 
 phone. 
 
 " You shan't answer t You shall come with me ! " 
 
 " No ! For your sake, Garry, for your sake, I tell 
 you! " she cried, her extended hands shaking with the 
 intensity of her pleading. Massingale and the self 
 she could not trust terrified her. No ; she could never 
 come to him with this fear of what another man had 
 awakened in her veins. The telephone ceased. She 
 had torn off her coat. He came quietly to her, un- 
 flinching in his resolve. 
 
 "Dodo, did you understand me, dear?" he said 
 gently. " I will take all responsibilities ! " 
 
 "You don't know what that means!" she said 
 hoarsely. 
 
 "I do know!" 
 
 At this moment she saw Snyder in the corner, kneel- 
 ing, her hands clasped above her head. A sudden 
 flood of tears came to her. He drew the coat once 
 more about her, his voice, too, shaken: 
 
 "Your hat now!" 
 
 She obeyed, reaching out her hand, holding it. 
 
 " Garry, I haven't the right ! " she said brokenly. 
 " If if I weren't so weak ! If if " 
 
 " Put it on ! " he said. 
 
 " Oh, Garry ! What will happen ? " she said heavily. 
 " Promise, whatever happens forgive " 
 
 She could not finish ; her voice became inarticulate. 
 And blindly obeying the touch of his fingers, she put 
 on her hat, grotesquely turned about. The next mo-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 505 
 
 ment his arm was about her, seeming to lift her from 
 the ground. At the door, again the telephone burst 
 out. She shrank back, afraid to pass it, seeing an 
 omen. 
 
 " Come ! " he said obstinately. 
 
 His arm tightened about her body, not to be denied. 
 Her head buried against his shoulder, her hands clutch- 
 ing his coat, they swept but of the room, down-stairs 
 and bravely into the pattering gusty night. Up-stairs 
 the telephone continued to ring a long time, clamoring 
 and insistent. And for a long time the figure of Sny- 
 der remained kneeling and tense and motionless. 
 
 At ten o'clock Snyder started from her seat. Dodo 
 had come into the room. She was against the door, 
 her face tortured and white, her eyes very big. 
 
 "His wife!" she said solemnly. She held up her 
 hand, on which a thin gold band was shining. " We 
 leave to-night. He is waiting below. Tell me, did he 
 come ? " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "You told him?" 
 
 "I told him!" 
 
 She caught at her throat, and made as if to ask fur- 
 ther questions, but suddenly checked herself, went to 
 the desk and drew out writing-paper. She wrote but 
 a few words, though once she stopped and rested her 
 forehead in her hands. Then she rose. 
 
 "For him yourself!"' she said with difficulty. 
 "To-night. This too."
 
 506 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 With a hurried movement she joined the bracelet 
 to the letter, and suddenly seized the woman in a 
 straining desperate grip. 
 
 " Snyder! Snyder! If you've ever prayed for me 
 pray now ! " 
 
 She drew her veil hurriedly over her tortured 
 white face, and went rapidly away into the night.
 
 AND what became of Dodo? Did she completely 
 change in a twinkling, and changing by the 
 divine dispensation of being a woman, forget that 
 other turbulent self? Only once again did she return 
 into the hazardous life of old a last flash of the 
 dramatic impulse and the adventure came close to 
 a final tragedy. Six months after that rainy March 
 night when she had gone weakly into the rain on 
 Garry's imperious arm, she set foot in New York 
 once more. 
 
 Perhaps it was the tragic splendor of these Towers 
 of Babel aflame against the night, after all the grim 
 months of victorious struggle and abnegation; per- 
 haps it was something deeper within her that drove 
 her to slip from the sober cloak of matrimony and 
 once again try the perilous paths of the Salamander. 
 
 At three o'clock the next afternoon, she left her 
 hotel, after procuring a promise from her husband 
 that he would not attempt to follow her. Below Jock 
 Lindaberry's automobile was waiting, a footman at 
 the door. She gave the familiar number of Miss 
 Pirn's on lower Madison and sank against the cush- 
 ioned back. A mirror caught her reflection and she 
 gazed with a queer tugging sensation of the incongru- 
 ities of time. It was Dodo and it was not Dodo at 
 
 507
 
 508 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 all. The figure was still fragile, the alert poised 
 eagerness was still in the glance and the arch mischief 
 in the smile, but that was all. The old rebellion, the 
 recklessness, the nervous unrest were gone. She 
 looked incredulously upon a woman of the world, 
 soberly attired in blues and blacks, correctly bonneted 
 and veiled, a woman at peace, pensive and settled, 
 with a note of authority. She gazed long with mem- 
 ory haunted eyes, half inclined to laughter and half 
 verging on tears. Now that she had set recklessly 
 out in search of the past, she began to experience a 
 little doubt. Familiar corners, a glimpse of a res- 
 taurant, ways by which she had so often returned, 
 brought her a strange disturbance. Which was real, 
 Dodo Baxter or the present Mrs. Lindaberry? 
 
 At the door she dismissed the automobile, aware of 
 sudden eyes in windows above and climbed the 
 brownstone steps. The emotion of familiarity was 
 so instantaneous that absent-mindedly she found her- 
 self seeking in her purse for a departed latch-key. 
 Not Josephus but another darky answered her ring. 
 On the hat-rack was a disordered heap of letters which 
 other girls tremulously would come to sort. In the 
 musty parlor with its Sunday solemnity a couple were 
 whispering, sinking their voices in sudden conscious- 
 ness at her arrival. She groped her way into the ob- 
 scurity of the stairs, thinking with a little melan- 
 choly of the girl and the man below, playing the old, 
 old game. On the second landing, from the room 
 that once was Ida's, another girl in hasty kimono was 
 saying,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 509 
 
 " You answer tell him I went out with another 
 man make out I'm furious " 
 
 She caught herself at Dodo's rustling coming, ey- 
 ing her curiously and then as though reassured ended, 
 " If he responds with a bid for dinner, grab it ! " 
 
 The whispering plotters recalled a hundred frag- 
 ments of the old life, as though one cry had started 
 echoes from every corner and cranny. She went on 
 a little saddened by the sound of old accents in new 
 mouths. So even she had not been different from 
 the rest. Other Dodos would come and go as she 
 had passed, as everything changed and gave way to 
 the same renewals. Then she opened the door of her 
 room and saw Snyder standing gazing eagerly at 
 her. 
 
 She did not cross immediately, waiting by the door, 
 lost in familiar details of patched walls and carpets, 
 noting changes, the absence of confusion, the new 
 note of bare simplicity. 
 
 " It doesn't seem quite the same without the 
 trunks. You've moved the couch, too. Funny, queer 
 old room ! " she said solemnly. 
 
 For the trunks that had served so often as im- 
 promptu bureaus, were gone, all save one, those 
 trunks that were always gaping open, in such fine dis- 
 order. Then there were no flowers, sporting theii 
 gay extravagance from rickety table or smoky mantel 
 and the great gilt mirror which had leaned in the 
 corner had departed, too. Yet all the familiar old 
 seemed incredibly distant : even that rapid figure her 
 imagination conjured up, perched on a trunk before
 
 510 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 the dressing-table studying a disastrous hole in a 
 golden stocking. Was that Dodo and if so where had 
 been the present self all that tempestuous time ? Sud- 
 denly she noted the figure of the woman waiting on 
 her tensely. She raised her veil, crossed quickly, hold- 
 ing out her arms. 
 
 " How is he how is Mr. Lindaberry ? " said Sny- 
 der at once. 
 
 "Garry? Magnificent' every inch a man." 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " And I ? " she asked a little puzzled. 
 
 " You're happy, aren't you ? " said Snyder breath- 
 lessly. 
 
 "Oh very happy " She added with careful 
 emphasis, " Very, very happy ! " 
 
 She slipped off her black fur jacket and was about 
 to toss it on a chair when she stopped, folded it care- 
 fully and handed it to Snyder. 
 
 " I forgot. Seems like old times for us to be here 
 and you waiting on me." She took off her gloves, 
 rolled them in a ball and tossed them to Snyder who 
 placed them beside the coat on the bed. She added, 
 seeking to give the conversation a casual note : " You 
 got my letter of course. It's all right? I can have 
 the room for the afternoon alone? " 
 
 " Sure." 
 
 " I don't need to explain, do I ? " she said rapidly. 
 "It's" 
 
 " Shut up, honey," said Snyder in the old rough 
 manner, " it's all yours." 
 
 " No one will come ? "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 511 
 
 " No one ever comes." 
 
 " And who's in that room Winona's? " she asked, 
 walking to the door and listening. 
 
 " She's gone from noon teaching Fifth Avenue 
 to walk like Hester Street. Don't know her. She's 
 new." 
 
 She passed the dressing-table, still crowded with her 
 knickknacks and mementoes. 
 
 " Snyder," she said surprised, " you've kept all 
 those crazy things. Heavens, what didn't I used to 
 do ! " She sat down before the table, shaking her 
 head at the strange reflection. "Is it possible!" 
 Then turning quickly she said, " And you, Snyder ? 
 Tell me all about yourself." 
 
 " Me ? Sliding to fame on greased rails," said Sny- 
 der pleased. " Two hundred dollars a week now. 
 Fact. Betty? She'll marry a dook yet! " 
 
 Dodo rose and taking from her purse a pendant, a 
 diamond cross with a pearl in the center, held it out. 
 
 " It's for Betty the first thing we bought. It's 
 to bring her everything in the world." 
 
 " My lord " said Snyder aghast. " Look here 
 that ain't right it must have cost " 
 
 " Hush, you funny old thing," said Dodo, silencing 
 her. " Don't you know it never never could cost 
 enough ! " 
 
 But before another word could be exchanged Miss 
 Pim burst effusively into the room, ruffling like a 
 motherly fowl. 
 
 " Dodo ! Land's sake what a swell you've be- 
 come ! "
 
 512 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 She bore down, open-armed, for a convulsive hug 
 but Dodo extending a formal hand checked her. 
 
 " How do you do very glad to see you, I'm sure." 
 
 " Two men, Dodo ! Chauffeur and footman ! " ex- 
 claimed Miss Pirn, blundering a little over the defen- 
 sive handshake, but unabashed. " My, I think I 
 should expire on the spot if I ever went up Fifth Ave- 
 nue behind a chauffeur and a footman. You lucky, 
 lucky girl who'd have thought you'd make such a 
 match you such a fly-away ! Well, you always 
 were my favorite." 
 
 Again the door slapped enthusiastically against the 
 wall and Anita Morgan bounded in, all eyes and ex- 
 clamations. 
 
 " Dodo ! The lord be praised ! Won't Clarice be 
 surprised? Heard about her? She's domesticated 
 too oddles of money old gent in splendid state 
 of ill health! My, won't she be crazy to see you! 
 How well you look! Clever puss! Always said you 
 were the slyest of us all ! " 
 
 " Heavens, Anita, do be careful," said Dodo, disen- 
 gaging herself from the reckless embrace, " you're 
 tearing me to pieces ! " 
 
 Anita, jumping on the table, rocking enthusiastic- 
 ally, rushed on: 
 
 " How's Garry the darling! " 
 
 " Mr. Lindaberry's health is quite satisfactory," 
 said Dodo coldly. 
 
 " Come off! " said Anita with a laugh. " Guess I 
 played round with Garry before you ever did. I say, 
 Do, I'm just dying for a good old bust! Lord, it's
 
 THE SALAMANDER 513 
 
 been slow since you went. Gee, everything's broke 
 up. Ida's a hundred years married can't talk any- 
 thing but the price of eggs and Brussel carpets. Thank 
 the lord, Dodo, you and Garry are back to start some- 
 thing!" 
 
 Snyder by the mantelpiece was standing grimly pre- 
 pared, watching for developments, while Miss Pim 
 overawed was listening open-mouthed. 
 
 " My dear Anita," said Dodo quietly, " I'm afraid 
 you are going to be disappointed again. We are go- 
 ing to be very quiet much too quiet for you! " 
 
 Something in the cold decision of the tone opened 
 Anita's eyes. She looked at Dodo with a new vision, 
 with a flare-up of that fierce caste antagonism which 
 Dodo once had felt so brutally, face to face with Mrs. 
 Massingale. 
 
 " Dear me, as late as that ! " she said, glancing at a 
 wrist watch with extra nonchalance. " I must be 
 rushing. So glad though to have had this glimpse." 
 She shook hands airily. " You look quite shaken 
 down, dear quite matronly. I should never have 
 thought it. Good-by. My love to poor old Garry." 
 
 She went out languidly, her head in the air. Miss 
 Pim remained, shuffling from foot to foot, awed and 
 embarrassed, wondering how to exit with dignity. 
 
 Dodo, quite at her ease and determined, came to her 
 aid. 
 
 " My dear Miss Pim, there are certain things I must 
 talk over with Snyder. If you will wait for me 
 down-stairs, I'll drop in as I go out since I was al- 
 ways your favorite ! "
 
 514 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 "Down-stairs?" said Miss Pirn, absolutely dazed 
 by this easy air of patronage. 
 
 " Yes, that's it." 
 
 " Oh, down-stairs? " she repeated, open-mouthed. 
 
 She turned, gazed at Snyder, bumped against the 
 table and sidled out of the room, staring at Dodo in 
 consternation. 
 
 Snyder who had been silently enjoying the scene 
 stepped forward, folding her arms abruptly. 
 
 " Right, honey you've got your chance now. 
 Cut away all the rest ! " 
 
 " Yes, I must," Dodo answered, drawing a long 
 breath, gazing out of the great bay-window to where 
 the Metropolitan tower, like a great stalk among the 
 weeds, was silhouetted against the changing white and 
 yellow clouds. She had been abrupt, she had been 
 cruel, yet she knew she had only done what she had 
 to do. Snyder had understood, the readjustment was 
 to be profound. 
 
 " Sure, you must," said Snyder standing before her 
 stubbornly. " Oil and water don't mix. Don't you 
 get sentimental don't you flinch cut it all out ! 
 Start new." She nodded twice resolutely, turned and 
 going to the bed, flung on her coat and slapped on her 
 hat in her familiar way. She came back struggling in 
 the sleeves. " The room's yours." 
 
 Dodo, a little embarrassed, felt called upon for an 
 explanation. 
 
 " You see I want it for a particular " she began, 
 only to be interrupted. 
 
 " Cut out explanations. It's yours. Well, honey,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 515 
 
 you've got a bully start, hang on to it hang on hard. 
 Good luck good-by." 
 
 Suddenly Dodo comprehended. She caught the 
 woman in indignant revolt. 
 
 " Not you, Snyder ! Never you ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes me more than the rest," said Snyder 
 heavily. 
 
 "Oh, no, no! Never!" 
 
 "What's the use of fooling ourselves?" said Sny- 
 der stubbornly. " You've found yourself you've 
 started a real life Thank God. I've got no place 
 in it." As Dodo emotionally stricken started to pro- 
 test she shook her head, smiling a strange smile, taking 
 up doggedly. " Let's be honest. See here it is a 
 queer world. We bumped against each other going 
 through it God knows how you've been square 
 to me and I've been square to you. Lord, that's 
 enough. Precious lot more than most people can say." 
 She stopped, locked her hands convulsively and avoided 
 Dodo's eyes. " Well, your train has got to go one 
 way mine another. That's all. Here, give me your 
 hand. We're not going to fool ourselves or each 
 other. You know what's got to be. Good-by 
 good luck." 
 
 " Oh, Snyder, it's too cruel, life is too cruel! " said 
 Dodo, her eyes blinded, her throat choking. 
 
 " You see," said Snyder, forcing a smile, " even 
 you know what I say is right." 
 
 " No no, I didn't mean it that way," said Dodo 
 indignantly, but she stopped short, struck with the 
 truth of it all.
 
 516 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " I know you didn't," said Snyder, fist to her eyes. 
 " Hell, am I going to get sentimental ? " Suddenly 
 she took Dodo's hand, muttered something incoherent 
 and raised it to her lips. Then she broke from the 
 weeping woman and went hastily to the door. 
 
 " Remember," she said, " don't you flinch don't 
 you" 
 
 Suddenly she stopped, caught her throat and went 
 out with a last feeble wave of her hand. Dodo sank 
 down, overcome with loneliness and the melancholy of 
 other existences. 
 
 She had come indeed to set the seal on the past, to 
 tie up old bundles, old memories, sweet and sad, re- 
 grets and failures ; to arrange them into compact moral 
 bundles, to be placed carefully on the shelves of ob- 
 livion, but she had not contemplated eliminating Sny- 
 der. Yet the pitiless verity had penetrated and con- 
 vinced her. Nothing of the old life could travel with 
 her into the new. When she had recovered herself 
 she went rapidly to the narrow window and flung down 
 the shade to blot out the impending side of brick. She 
 threw open the trunk and the little bureau where Sny- 
 der had religiously guarded her things. There were 
 a hundred reminders of the old life, scrawled notes 
 from forgotten props, the card of Sassoon's with the 
 scribbled entreaty to see him for a short time, type- 
 written business letters from Mr. Peavey, a confi- 
 dential note from Harrigan Blood a tintype she 
 once had had taken with Nebbins at a Sunday picnic 
 a photograph of Blainey looking uncomfortably 
 posed, scores of cards which had accompanied flowers,
 
 THE SALAMANDER 517 
 
 Christmas offerings, pawn-tickets, birthday presents, 
 what not, and in a separate packet done round with 
 red ribbon, all that Judge Massingale had written her, 
 beginning with that first miserable apology. 
 
 "Dear Miss Baxter: 
 
 " I was out of my head ... I should have known my limi- 
 tations ... I didn't . . ." 
 
 She sat down, her lap filled, looking into the stormy 
 past through this strange rent in the fabric of the 
 actual. A knock sounded from the hall and she sprang 
 up hastily, gazing in sudden fear at the round clock- 
 face of the Metropolitan Tower. The successor to 
 Josephus was at the door, hesitating at her appear- 
 ance. 
 
 " Yes, it is for me," she said hastily, glancing at the 
 card. " It's all right. Send him up." 
 
 She returned in a panic, closing the trunk, pushing 
 in stubborn bureau drawers. Now that he had actu- 
 ally come, as she had written him, as she had not be- 
 lieved he would come, she felt cold and hot all at once 
 with sudden irregular knockings of her heart within. 
 What would be the end of it all ? What power had he 
 still over her? All at once she perceived the packet 
 of letters on the bed where she had thrown them 
 his letters and rushing over caught them up and 
 flung them in the hastily opened trunk. 
 
 "Come" 
 
 She turned instantly intent rigid. But her ear 
 had deceived her, there had been no knock. She 
 caught her breath twice, dug her nails into the palms
 
 5i8 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 of her hands and walked steadily away. When a mo- 
 ment later there came a knock, she was able to say 
 calmly : 
 
 " Yes, come." 
 
 The door opened with a certain solemnity and 
 Judge Massingale came in. She acknowledged his 
 coming with a half-forward gesture of her hand, her 
 glance on the floor, afraid of the first recognition, say- 
 ing rapidly: 
 
 " It was good of you to come, very good. Thank 
 you." 
 
 He stood, without movement to lay aside his hat 
 and stick, self-possessed and cynically amused. 
 
 " I have come, my dear lady," he said evenly. 
 " Well, because I was curious." 
 
 " I had to see you," she said in a low rapid voice. 
 " I could not bear I had to see you I wanted you 
 to understand." 
 
 " Understand ? What a curious word. You'll be 
 saying forgive next." 
 
 " Ah, yes, forgive me," she cried impulsively, look- 
 ing at him for the first time. " Forgive me for all the 
 harm I've done to you ! " 
 
 " And I came to congratulate you." He laid his 
 hat and cane mathematically on a table and came for- 
 ward with the same controlled smile. 
 
 " Oh, let me explain," she said, revolting at his 
 manner. 
 
 " Explain ? There is nothing to explain, everything 
 is quite clear to me at least," he said, and against
 
 THE SALAMANDER 519 
 
 his intention a note of harshness came into his voice. 
 " You played your game perfectly. You used me for 
 just what you wanted: to bring another man to the 
 point. Oh, don't apologize. It's done a great deal 
 nowadays in the best of families. You have made a 
 splendid marriage, Mrs. Lindaberry. I do congratu- 
 late you." 
 
 " You don't believe that," she said angrily. 
 
 " Pardon me, I do. I'm not reproaching you. I 
 warned myself again and again. I said once if I ever 
 was fool enough to believe you I would be lost. Well, 
 I believed you. I blame only myself. You are a 
 very clever woman, Mrs. Lindaberry." 
 
 She twisted her hands helplessly, staring out the 
 window over worn roofs to storm-clouds piling against 
 the sky, hurt and defenseless against his light irony. 
 
 " Yes, yes," she said tremulously. " You have a 
 right I deserve all that." She sat down weakly, 
 her hands between her knees, staring out. 
 
 " Oh, please," he said, smiling at the dramatic as- 
 sumption. " Don't let's take things too seriously. I 
 was not so hard hit as all that. Honestly, now that 
 it's all over I'm well, rather relieved. It would 
 have been rather a nasty mess. I like the ruts of life; 
 I'm quite happy going on as I am. You see how frank 
 I am I won't play the injured hero. Now that I 
 look back, critically, in my own sort of way, I assure 
 you my only sentiment is one of admiration. Great 
 heavens, what does it avail to have all the knowledge 
 of the world against one little woman! Come," he
 
 520 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 added with a certain nervous intentness, which belied 
 the simulated lightness of his tone, " be frank. You 
 know you never meant to go." 
 
 She shook her head slowly, staring ahead of her as 
 though painfully distinguishing that other volatile and 
 breathless self. 
 
 " It seems an awful thing to say now," she said 
 slowly. " I think I would have gone if I'd been sure 
 of you." 
 
 " If! " he said scornfully. 
 
 " You never really wanted to go ! " she said, rising 
 and approaching him swiftly, speaking rapidly with 
 quick breaths. " You only wanted the sensation of 
 the forbidden you, too ! All you say now proves 
 it! You were always thinking of society of what 
 your friends and the newspapers would say al- 
 ways afraid, always hesitating, always a gentleman ! " 
 
 " True, but not at the last," he said doggedly, for- 
 getting his pose. 
 
 " Yes, yes, even at the last. Just the same at the 
 last," she said angrily. " No, no ! I was to blame ! 
 I saw in you what you were not, what you could never 
 be. I was wild crazy ; but I longed for something 
 beautiful >a great romance. I thought you under- 
 stood you didn't ! It was never anything but an 
 infatuation with you just that and nothing else 
 something pulling you down ! " 
 
 " That is not true," he said roughly, stirred by her 
 charge. " At the end it was I and not you who would 
 have made the greater sacrifice. I was ready to throw 
 over everything ! "
 
 THE SALAMANDER 521 
 
 " No, no ! " she repeated blindly. " You weren't 
 going of your own free will. There were times when 
 you hated me more than you loved me. At the end 
 you were going like a criminal ! " 
 
 "What! When I had told my wife all broken 
 with her put myself in her power turned my back 
 on everything yes, and gladly ! " 
 
 " I never believed it," she said standing in front of 
 him, inciting him by word and look. " I don't believe 
 it now. If you had cared as I wanted " 
 
 " Cared ! Great God," he broke in passionately, 
 " I was ready to exile myself, to throw my reputation 
 to the dogs to ruin my whole life. Cared!" 
 
 " You cared ! " she said in rapid scorn. " You 
 loved ! And now six months later you can come here 
 calmly, brutally, cynically, and say, ' I came because 
 I was curious.' You cared! " 
 
 A blind animal fury swept over him. He caught 
 her in his arms, murder and abject yielding wrestling 
 in his soul. 
 
 "Dodo!" 
 
 She had swept aside all the artifices of the man of 
 the world. The man beneath the veneer, rage or pas- 
 sion led, held her in a clasp that left its wounds upon 
 her tender arms. Yet she did not move or cry out. 
 He looked at her inertly thus, immobile as a statue and 
 suddenly as though perceiving a strange woman, he 
 released her roughly, amazed at himself. 
 
 " Good God," he said, striking his forehead, 
 " haven't you done me enough harm already ! " 
 
 She burst out weeping.
 
 522 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 He turned, stirred to a guilty responsibility, trying 
 to bluster into the better reason. 
 
 " Why did you bring me here ? " 
 
 She made no answer. 
 
 " Dodo," he said angrily, wondering still at her mo- 
 tive with growing alarm, " I warn you ; all is over be- 
 tween us. You yourself have done it. You belong 
 to another ! " 
 
 She fell back in a chair, her sobs redoubling hys- 
 terically; a wild laugh suddenly breaking through. 
 
 "I'm sorry I'm awfully sorry," he said, stirred 
 from his anger and his righteousness. 
 
 " No, no," she said brokenly, " you've done nothing 
 nothing, but what I wished." 
 
 " What! " he said in a voice of thunder. 
 
 " I wanted you to forget yourself to take me in 
 your arms," she said almost incoherently. 
 
 He could not believe his ears. Astounded, he 
 seized her by the wrist, saying angrily : 
 
 " You you did this on purpose ! " 
 
 " I did, and oh, it is the worst, the most awful thing 
 I've done in all my life I know it, I know it! But 
 I had to do it, yes, I had to. Oh, forgive me, Your 
 Honor. I had no right but I had to know." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " he said, releasing her and 
 staring at her to assure himself that she was in her 
 right mind. 
 
 She rose, the tears at an end, facing him calmly, 
 even with a new sense of power, which struck pro- 
 foundly into his masculine vanity.
 
 THE SALAMANDER 523 
 
 " I had to know that I was really free that you 
 had no more power over me that I could go on with 
 my life," she said simply. 
 
 It was too monstrous, he could not credit it. 
 
 "And you brought me here for that?" he said 
 slowly. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Good heavens," he cried, revolted and shocked, 
 " you you could do such a thing, such an in- 
 defensible, outrageous thing as this. That is too 
 much, I can not understand " 
 
 " I did it," she said quietly, " because I want to be 
 a good wife." 
 
 " Then it was not because you wished to get me 
 back? " he cried, too amazed not to be indiscreet. 
 
 " Why, no of course not ! " 
 
 " It is incredible ! " he said stupidly aghast at her 
 candor. 
 
 " Then I wanted you to understand," she said 
 swiftly. " Wait. You will understand," she added 
 quickly, her hand on his arm as he started an angry 
 gesture. " Yes, yes, you will, because I know you or 
 would I have let you come here ? " she said illogically. 
 " You are too big you understand everything 
 you will me." 
 
 There was a moment's silent struggle as their eyes 
 met each other. Then without waiting his answer, 
 confidently she said : 
 
 " You know, after all, it's very simple. You were 
 right. You remember that first time here you said
 
 524 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 I was to end like all the rest, just an ordinary little 
 house- frau. Wasn't I furious though ! Well, you 
 were right! That's just what I have come to be! " 
 
 The incredible side of it all, the boldness of the situ- 
 ation, yet the naturalness of the incomprehensible Dodo 
 doing just this, caught him with the old fascination. 
 He yielded. 
 
 " You, Dodo, are saying this," he said, interested 
 despite himself, "you who adored precipices?" 
 
 " Did I ? " She shook her head, with a little catch 
 after breath, in the suddenness of her victory which 
 his surrender had brought her. " I think all my dar- 
 ing was just ignorance. Now, when I look back I am 
 frightened to death. You thought I was such a wild 
 breathless creature no! I never really was brave. 
 You see, I imagined a world as every girl must. It 
 wasn't real, nothing was real. It was all just groping 
 after something just waiting, longing. And that's 
 why I was as I was with you. I was impatient, tired 
 of waiting. And I imagined the answer. Often I 
 try to understand why I did what I did. Then I used 
 to be so thrilled by every reckless, lawless thing I did. 
 It gave me the feeling of a cork bobbing over hungry 
 waves. What a pitiful little creature that Dodo was ! 
 She thought she could conquer life. She didn't know. 
 She thought she was different from the rest. She was 
 only restless, a helpless little rebel, with every man's 
 hand against her. And because she didn't want to be 
 like all the rest what a terrible disaster it came near 
 being!" She stopped, lost in the obscurity of the 
 past and then turning to him, gaining confidence by
 
 THE SALAMANDER 525 
 
 what she saw in his eyes, went on in soft pleading: 
 " Don't judge me. The game wasn't square. It never 
 is between a man and a girl. You would have had your 
 man's world to go back to and I? Oh, won't you 
 understand why I did what I did? Can't you under- 
 stand how hard it is for a girl, all by herself, to really 
 know what she wants of life? Your Honor, can't you 
 forgive ? " 
 
 He had been profoundly moved by her words and 
 by the deep tones of her voice, beyond any power of 
 simulation. He knew he would grant her request and 
 yet with a last personal feeling against the unreason- 
 ableness of asking it of him, he said : 
 
 " What difference can it make to you whether I 
 forgive or not ? " 
 
 " Oh, but it does it does," she cried, joining her 
 hands in a passionate entreaty. 
 
 " Dodo," he said solemnly, not daring to look at 
 her, " I suppose you are my destiny. I shall always 
 go on loving you. If you need this from me to be 
 happy as I want you you have it." 
 
 " Thanks," she said in a whisper. 
 
 He felt suddenly the finality ' of their words as 
 though the shadowy hand of destiny had moved be- 
 tween them, parting them irrevocably. 
 
 " You have never been like any one else," he said 
 solemnly. " I never thought I could forgive well, 
 I do understand. There is nothing more to be said. 
 Write finis and close the book." He went to the rack 
 and took up his hat and stick. " I suppose I shan't 
 see you again or if I do it will be in the midst of a herd
 
 526 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 of human beings to pretend correctly we never once 
 dreamed an impossible dream. Good-by." 
 
 Her lips murmured inarticulately. 
 
 He took a step toward the irrevocable parting, and 
 then stopped seeking anything to delay the inevitable. 
 
 "One question just one. You could not have 
 loved him your husband that night. And 
 now? " 
 
 " I did then though I wasn't sure," she said as 
 though this were the most natural question in the 
 world. " Now ? Yes, and yet it is nothing to the 
 way I am going to love him, the way I must love 
 him." 
 
 " How can you say such things? " he said in a final 
 stupefaction. 
 
 The battle she had fought, the incredible triumph 
 she had won, had left her exalted, lifted out of the 
 personal self. She spoke now, as though unaware of 
 his presence, as though trying to comprehend things 
 beyond her ken. 
 
 "What is a woman's life? Do you know? Just 
 an exchange of illusions. I have put aside all the 
 queer fantastic dreams of a girl I haven't yet quite 
 put on the new not quite. I suppose for just this 
 one moment 'this one moment of absolute truth, I 
 can see myself as I really am, just for a moment 
 perhaps I shall never want to look at myself so steadily 
 again. To-day I can look ahead and know everything 
 that is coming. I know that I shall make myself just 
 what he, my husband, wishes me to be. I shall really 
 become what he now thinks I am. I shall have chil-
 
 THE SALAMANDER 527 
 
 dren many children I hope. My home, my hus- 
 band, my children there will never be room for 
 any other thought in my life. Mine all that is 
 mine, I shall cling to and keep ! " 
 
 She heard the door close, as the man before the 
 sanctity of the revelation, had gone in reverence. 
 Then suddenly a horror of the past, of the room, of 
 the Dodo that had been, seized her. She wished now 
 only to finish, to escape and never to return. She ran 
 to the trunk, seized the bundle of letters and keep- 
 sakes and flung them in the fireplace. Then seizing 
 a box, she struck several matches and applied them 
 feverishly. 
 
 All at once the door opened and the voice of her 
 husband cried gaily : 
 
 "Caught!" 
 
 She gave a scream, reeling against the mantelpiece. 
 He sprang hurriedly to her side, gathering her into his 
 arms, apologizing for the fright he had given her while 
 she lay trembling and shivering, quite hysterical. 
 
 The horror of what might have been, the last gaping 
 pit of fate to which she had subjected herself, left 
 her sick unto weakness. He knew nothing. He sus- 
 pected nothing, and yet he must have passed Massin- 
 gale on the stairs themselves. 
 
 " Good heavens, what a fool I am ! I didn't mean 
 to scare you. I'm a brute you poor child!" he 
 cried. 
 
 " When did you come ? " she said aghast hold- 
 ing herself from him and gazing in his face fearfully. 
 
 " Why, just now."
 
 528 THE SALAMANDER 
 
 " You promised " 
 
 " I know, but I couldn't keep away," he said, smil- 
 ing penitently. " Wanted to surprise the Missis ! 
 Steady." 
 
 She reeled, catching his arm, fighting down a wild 
 impulse to shriek out against what might have been, 
 dangerously inclined toward a fatal confession. Then 
 she saw a dark smirch across his sleeve and brushing 
 it away, asked breathlessly : 
 
 "Where did you get that?" 
 
 " Coming up. Infernally black stairs couple of 
 fellows trod all over me. Bless your heart, Dodo, I 
 say I didn't know you frightened as easily as that. 
 What a brute I am. Come here ! " 
 
 He sat down, holding out his arms. 
 
 " You mustn't frighten me, Garry you must be 
 careful just now," she said weakly, sinking against his 
 shoulder. 
 
 He surveyed the room curiously, running his hand 
 over her hair. " Odd old room. Seems like old 
 times, doesn't it ? " 
 
 " I hate it," she said passionately. 
 
 " It was pretty rough going," he said sobered im- 
 mediately. " A pretty tight squeeze. But you pulled 
 me out of it, >you curious, fragile little child. How 
 did you ever dare ? " 
 
 " Not such a child as you think," she said rebel- 
 liously. 
 
 " The idea," he said, laughing gloriously. Then he 
 became serious again. " Dodo, that's what's marvel- 
 ous about you women. You can go up against the
 
 THE SALAMANDER 529 
 
 ugliness ot life and never not for an instant even 
 realize what you touch. Bless your innocence ! " 
 
 She raised herself on his lap, her hands on his 
 shoulders, looking deep into his unseeing eyes, realiz- 
 ing that he would never comprehend her otherwise. 
 All at once she felt a fierce resolve to defend that illu- 
 sion. 
 
 " Garry," she said tensely, " that's what you want 
 me to be, isn't it just a child! " 
 
 " Dodo could never be anything else ! " he said joy- 
 fully, oblivious of the recording hand of fate, writing 
 on the woman's heart. 
 
 " Then that's what I shall always be," she said 
 softly. She relaxed, cuddling her head against his 
 shoulder, repeating in a tired whisper "Just a 
 child ! " 
 
 The rest can be written in a sentence. 
 She became a conventional member of society, 
 rather extreme in her conservatism. 
 
 THE END
 
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