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THE FATE OF FENELLA.

countrymen don't care about wife—I beg your pardon—women-beaters."

The colonel ground his teeth and clenched his hands, but kept tranquil.

"Madame, you are right," he said at last. "Quite right, I am not going to murder you. Anything of that sort I can leave to your husband—when he gets out of prison. But to come to business. If you take my advice you will make tracks. I have had private information that you have escaped by the skin of your teeth. They have got your husband and they wanted you, but the prosecutors seem to be economical, and they are satisfied with him. So instead of being taken to the Tombs on your arrival in New York, you were allowed to come home with me. And a nice home you have made it, madame," and he looked round the room crammed with costly gimcracks. "It has cost me a pretty penny."

"Very likely," she replied calmly, "but you can afford it."

"Yes, fortunately, I can, madame. Salem Clutterbuck is good for millions."

"You had better not boast of your wealth, or you will make me avaricious."

"Avaricious! Why, what has my wealth to do with you, madame? All that is past and gone. We squared up when Mrs. Clutterbuck returned to Mme. Vin-jay."