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THE HOUSE OF INTRIGUE
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"Why do you say that?"

"Because he's trying to keep me from marrying the man I love," was the reply that came from the smoldering-eyed girl in white.

I sat back and let this sink in. It was a case of three strikes and out. It was a new twist to the tangle that left me more perplexed than ever. I began to feel like a blue-bottle fly in the web of a warrior-spider.

"But why should he do that?" I weakly inquired.

"Because he's thinking of only his own selfish ends," was the other's answer.

"What ends?"

The girl looked up at me.

"You don't seem to know my family," she ejaculated. There was on this occasion both pride and scorn incongruously mixed together in her tone.

"As far as I understand it," was my dignified reply, "I believe the Bartlett estate is valued at about seven million dollars."

"My estate!" corrected the moody-eyed young woman confronting me.

"And you mean to say this man is trying to rob you of this estate?" I demanded.

"It's worse than that!" was the other's reply.

That hint of things too dark to be unearthed gave