you there aren't any others. They're all insipid. They 
won't do. I just want one man, my Frank. If you ever 
desert me, I'll go to hell. You'll see. You'll be the cause." 
"Don't talk like that, Aileen," he replied, almost irri- 
tated. " I don't like to hear you. You wouldn't do any- 
thing of the sort. I love you. You know I'm not going 
to desert you. It would pay you to desert me just now." 
"Oh, how you talk!" she exclaimed. "Desert you! 
It's likely, isn't it? But if ever you desert me, I'll do 
just what I say. I swear it." 
" Don't talk like that. Don't talk nonsense." 
" I swear it. I swear by my love. I swear by your 
success—my own happiness. I'll do just what I say. 
I'll go to hell." 
Cowperwood got up. He was a little afraid now of 
this deep-seated passion he had aroused. It was dan- 
gerous. He could not tell where it would lead. 
Following this conversation came the discovery of 
Aileen in the South Sixth Street house, which the employ- 
ment of the detective agency foreshadowed. Butler was 
in his office on the afternoon named when Alderson, who 
had been informed of the presence of Aileen and Cowper- 
wood by the detective on guard, drove rapidly up and 
invited Butler to come with him. The latter hurried down 
in a most perturbed state of mind. In spite of the letter 
and Aileen's guilty eyes, and her peculiarly antagonistic 
attitude toward the European trip, he could not believe 
that he was actually to find her. What would he say to 
her if he did? How reproach her? What would he do to 
Cowperwood? They drove rapidly to within a few doors of 
the place, and a second detective on guard across the 
street approached. Butler and Alderson descended from 
the vehicle, and together they approached the door. 
It was now almost four-thirty in the afternoon. In a 
room within the house, Cowperwood was listening to 
Aileen's account of her troubles. Certainly the situation 
was a pressing one, and it must be met.