She faced him, hesitated an instant, and then said, without a trace of emotion in her voice:
"Tom, do you think Colonel Grand would be willing to buy out my share in the show?"
He stared. Then he laughed sardonically.
"What are you givin' us? Buy out your share? I should say not. He might buy you, but not your share."
"You are a beast, Tom Braddock," she said, the red mounting slowly to her pale cheek. "Why do you say that to me?"
"Say, don't you suppose I know how it stands with you and him?" he retorted. "Come off, Mary. You're both trying to freeze me out. I'm on to the little game."
"Don't speak so loudly," she implored, clasping her hands.
"Oh, I'm not tellin' any secrets," he snarled. "It's common property. Everybody's on. I should think you'd be ashamed to look Christine in the face."
"God forgive you, Tom Braddock," she cried, abject horror in her eyes.
"Say, I've got to have an understanding with you," he went on ruthlessly. "I'm going to find out just how I stand in this here arrangement. Grand's taken charge of the money box. He says it's you and him against me. He's going to—"