"Perhaps you have unwittingly, Babie. Marriage is said to cancel the
follies of the past, but not those of the future, I believe; and, as
there are many temptations to an idle man in a place like this,
doubtless your husband is wise enough to own that he dares not stay but
finds discretion the better part of valor."

Nothing could be softer than the tone in which these words were uttered,
nothing sharper than the hidden taunt conveyed, but Gilbert only laughed
a scornful laugh as he fixed his keen eyes full upon her and took her
bouquet with the air of one assuming former rights.

"My dear Pauline, discretion is the last virtue I should expect to be
accused of by you; but if valor consists in daring all things, I may lay
claim to it without its 'better part,' for temptation is my delight--the
stronger the better. Have no fears for me, my friend. I gladly accept
Babie's decree and, ignoring the last ten years, intend to begin life
anew, having discovered a sauce piquante which will give the stalest
pleasures a redoubled zest. I am unfortunate tonight, and here is a
second wreck; this I can rebuild happily. Allow me to do so, for I
remember you once praised my skill in floral architecture."

With an air of eager gallantry in strange contrast to the malign
expression of his countenance, Gilbert knelt to regather the flowers
which a careless gesture of his own had scattered from their jeweled
holder. His wife turned to speak to Manuel, and, yielding to the
unconquerable anxiety his reckless manner awoke, Pauline whispered below
her breath as she bent as if to watch the work, "Gilbert, follow your
first impulse, and go tomorrow."

"Nothing shall induce me to."