"If I were you, Caroline," she said steadily, "I'd simply ask myself if I could trust Ronicky Doone.

Can you ?" The girl faced Ronicky again, her hands clasped in indecision and excitement.

Certainly, if clean honesty was ever written in the face of a man, it stood written in the clear-cut features of Ronicky Doone.
"Yes," she said at last, "I'll go.

For five minutes--only in the street--in full view of the house." There was a hard, deep-throated exclamation from John Mark.

He rose and glided across the room, as if to go and vent his anger elsewhere.
But he checked and controlled himself at the door, then turned.
"You seem to have won, Doone.