She smiled with her lips, but her eyes darkened.

"Yes, I went. It was not altogether enjoyable. I doubt if I'll try that
sort of thing again."

Sherwood's eye suddenly became cold and dangerous.

"If they didn't treat you right--"

She smiled, genuinely this time, at his sudden truculence.

"They didn't mob me," she rejoined equably, "and, anyway, I suppose it is
to be expected."

"It's that cat of Morrell's," he surmised.

"Oh, she--and others. I ought not to have spoken of it, Jack. It's really
beneath the contempt of sensible people."

"I'll get after Morrell, if he doesn't make that woman behave," said
Sherwood, without attention to her last speech.

She smiled at him again, entirely calm and reasonable.

"And what good would it do to get after Morrell?" she asked. "Mrs. Morrell
only stands for what most of them feel. I don't care, anyway. I get along
splendidly without them." She sauntered over to the window, where she began
idly to poke one finger at the canary.

"For the life of me, Patsy," confessed Sherwood, "I can't see that they're