explained apologetically. "It's just a horrid little devil I
converse with sometimes. What I meant was--" He did not seem to know
what he meant and looked rather helplessly out of the window. "Oh, I
say," he said presently, "you are not going to--to act like that,
are you? Agitation's so frightfully bad for me. Ask old Bones."

"You are not agitated," said Desire coldly. "Please be serious."

"I am. Deuced serious. And agitated too. You ought to think twice
before you startle me like that--just when everything was going
along so nicely."

"I am only reminding you of your own agreement," stubbornly. "I want
to be of use."

"Very selfish of you. Can't you think of someone else once in a
while?"

"Selfish? Because I want to help?"

"Certainly. I wonder you don't see it! Think of the mornings I've
put in on this dashed book just because you wanted to help. I have
to be polite, haven't I?--up to a point. But when you begin to blame
me for doing poorly what I do not want to do at all I begin to see
that my self-sacrifice is not appreciated."

"You are talking nonsense."

"Perhaps I am. But it was you who started it. When you said I did
not need you, you said a very nonsensical thing. And a very unkind