"There is only one explanation," said I angrily. "What are your
intentions regarding the girl?"

He smiled. "Quite honourable."

"You mean marriage?"

"Oh, no," said he, emphatically.

"Then the other thing? That's not honourable."

"Of course not. Certainly not the other thing. I'm not a
blackguard."

"Then what on earth are you playing at?"

He sighed. "I'm afraid you will never understand."

"I'm afraid I won't," said I. "By your own confession you are
neither a lusty blackguard nor an honourable gentleman. You're a
sort of philanderer, somewhere in between. You neither mean to
fight like a man nor love like a man. I'm sorry to say it, but
I've no use for you. As I can't do it myself, will you kindly ring
the bell?"

"Certainly," said he, white with anger, which I was glad to see,
and pressed the electric button beside the mantelpiece. He turned
on me, his head high. There was still some breeding left in him.