And as he spoke the electrics all over the gallery flashed out in a sudden blaze, and Curtis Jadwin entered the room, crying out:

“Are you here, Laura? By George, my girl, we pulled it off, and I’ve cleaned up five⁠—hundred⁠—thousand⁠—dollars.”

Laura and the artist faced quickly about, blinking at the sudden glare, and Laura put her hand over her eyes.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to blind you,” said her husband, as he came forward. “But I thought it wouldn’t be appropriate to tell you the good news in the dark.”

Corthell rose, and for the first time Jadwin caught sight of him.

“This is Mr. Corthell, Curtis,” Laura said. “You remember him, of course?”