"I really don't know," he answered. "It's a question I've never asked
myself."

"Because," she said, speaking rather quickly, "I think you a cad."

"Not really!" said Max, smiling openly. "Now I wonder why! Sit down,
won't you, and tell me?"

The colour was fading from her face again. She had made a mistake in
thus assailing him, and already she knew it. He only laughed at her puny
efforts to hurt him, laughed and goaded her afresh.

"Why am I not a gentleman?" he asked, and drew in a mouthful of smoke
which he puffed at the ceiling. "Because I said I should like to give
you a whipping? But you would like to tar and feather me, I gather.
Isn't that even more barbarous?" He watched the smoke ascend, with eyes
screwed up, then, as she did not speak, looked down at her again.

She no longer stood in the sunlight, and the passing of the splendour
seemed to have left her cold. She looked rather small and pinched--there
was even a hint of forlornness about her. But she had learned her
lesson.

As he looked at her, she clenched her hands, drew a deep breath, and
spoke. "Dr. Wyndham, I beg your pardon for hurting you, and for being
rude to you. I can't help my thoughts, of course, but I was wrong to put
them into words. Please forget--all I've said!"

"Oh, I say!" said Max, opening his eyes, "that's the cruellest thing
you've done yet. You've taken all the wind out of my sails, and left me