She did not answer, but sat mutely staring at
him, fiercely crumpling a rose-colored note in
her hand. He began to feel uncomfortable under
her gaze, and threw himself about uneasily
in his chair.

"Well," said he, at length, rising, "I suppose
there is nothing more. Good-bye."

"One moment, Mr. Grim," demanded she,
sternly. "Since I have already said so much,
and you have obligingly revealed to me a new
side of your character, I claim the right to
correct the opinion I expressed of you at our last
meeting."

"I am all attention."

"I did think, Mr. Grim," began she, breathing
hard, and steadying herself against the
table at which she stood, "that you were a
very selfish man--an embodiment of selfishness,
absolute and supreme, but I did not believe that
you were wicked."

"And what convinced you that I was selfish,
if I may ask?"

"What convinced me?" repeated she, in a