Douglas stared-dazed.
He rubbed his eyes and stared again as the last of the flickering fire died away. In an instant he realized that it was not a dream, that it was all a fact.
He looked from one to the other of the women.
He was checkmated.
Constance ostentatiously folded up the erased vouchers.
"I—I shall not—make any—contest," Douglas managed to gasp huskily.
CHAPTER XI
THE DOPE FIENDS
"I have a terrible headache," remarked Constance Dunlap to her friend, Adele Gordon, the petite cabaret singer and dancer of the Mayfair, who had dropped in to see her one afternoon.