“It’s none of your business!” she said fiercely, but in a low tone—­ for both were instinctively remembering Miss Grierson in the adjoining room.  And then she added proudly:  “But it’s big!  Bigger than anything you ever dreamed of!  And you can see I am putting it across so far—­ and I’ll be putting it across at the finish!  Compare it to the cheap line you talked about.  Bah!”

“Listen, Maggie!” In his intensity he gripped her bare forearm.  “This is bad business, and if you had any sense you’d know it!  Don’t you think I get the layout?  Barney is your cousin, Old Jimmie is your uncle, that dame in the next room and this suite and your swell clothes to help put up a front!  And your sickness that wouldn’t let you go to the theater is just a fake, so that, not wanting to disappoint them entirely, you’d have an excuse for having supper here—­and thus adroitly draw some person into the trap of a more intimate relationship.  It’s a clever and classy layout.  Maggie, exactly what’s your game?”

“I’ll not tell you!”

“Who’s that man that’s coming here?”

“I’ll not tell you!”

“Is he the sucker you’re out to trim?”

“I’ll not tell you!”

“You will tell me!” he cried dominantly.  “And you’re going to get out of all this!  You hear me?  It may look good to you now.  But I tell you it has only one finish!  And that’s a rotten finish!”

She tore free from his punishing grip, and pantingly glared at him—­her former defiance now an egoistic fury.

“I won’t have you interfering with my life!—­you fake preacher!—­you stool, you squealer!” she flung at him madly.  “Stool—­squealer!” she repeated.  “I tell you I’m going my own way—­and it’s a big way—­and I tell you again nothing you can say or do can stop me!  If I could have my best wish, all I’d wish for would be something to keep you from always interfering—­something to get you out of my way!”

Panting, she paused.  Her tense figure, with hands closing and unclosing, expressed the very acme of furious defiance—­of desire to annihilate—­of ultimate hatred.  Larry was astounded by the very extent, the profundity, of her passion.  And so they stood, silent except for their quick breathing, eyes fixed upon eyes, for several moments.

And then a key sounded in the outer door of the little hallway.  Instantly there was an almost unbelievable transformation in Maggie.  From an imperious, uncontrollable fury, she changed to a white, quivering thing.

“Barney!” she whispered; and sprang to the inner door of the little hallway, closed and locked it.

She turned on Larry a face that was ghastly in its pallor.

“Barney always carries a pistol,” she whispered.

They had heard the outer door close with a click of its automatic lock.  They now heard the knob of the inner door turn and tugged at; and then heard Barney call:  “What’s the matter, Maggie?  Let us in.”