without taking his eyes from her, he took off his hat and overcoat, tossed them aside, and sat down. He tried hard to appear calm.
"Now," he continued, "I insist that you drop this masquerade and tell me immediately who you are and how you came here. You're either crazy, or it's some sort of blackmailing game. If you know anything about my sister, you know you don't in the least resemble her; and if you know anything about me, you know I haven't any money. So, out with it, quick!"
"I've told you!" she said, and loosed another pathetic smile at him.
He frowned impatiently. "Then you are crazy!"
"No, I'm afraid you are!"
The deadlock continued for some minutes before either spoke again. Then he began more quietly. "I don't know what's the matter with you. It's too much for me. But, of course, I can't let you stay here. Neither can I put you out into this storm. The only thing I can think of is to telephone to some one to come here. But no woman could get here to-night, even if she should be willing to. I confess I don't know what to do with you."
"It's perfectly all right," she answered sweetly. "I'm your sister, and surely you should be willing to let me have your room for to-night. You can sleep on that big couch round the corner of the studio, and you'll be sober in the morning. When you wake up, you'll probably recognize me. I won't be hard on you, my dear. Only, really, you ought to be careful what you drink." She rose, walked over to him, and patted his head.
He jumped up abruptly and walked away, opened
