"Then may I ask the real reason for this urgent call and request for a compromise of our differences?"
"You may," was the cheerful response. "And I will answer frankly. I am engaged to be married to Miss Nan Primrose. The wedding is to occur in a few weeks. In some way she has learned of a possible conflict between your interests and mine, and asked me to settle them."
"And, may I ask, why? I don't even know Miss Primrose!"
"A woman's whim, perhaps. Possibly because our mutual friend, Mr. Stuart, lives in your home, and she feared to lose his friendship in the conflict which might ensue."
The doctor was silent a moment and glared angrily at his visitor.
"Bivens, you're a liar," he cried in a sudden burst of rage.
The dark face flushed and the slim little hand began to tremble.
"I am your guest, Doctor——"
"I beg your pardon, I forgot myself."
"I assure you," the little financier continued smoothly, "that my intentions were friendly and generous. My only desire was to help you and make you rich."