began the Count by way of explanation, "so
as I couldn't come myself I sent Tuetzi for you."

Edna resolved to bear herself with all the dignity of a Queen's
daughter. She sat up and felt for her _pince-nez_, and, discovering that
it was intact, she adjusted it on her nose. "Considering," she said,
"that all is at an end between us, you had no right whatever to send
your dragon to bring me here. It was a thing that no _gentleman_ would
have done!"

"Wouldn't that great and learned gentleman you told me of--the one whose
name I always forget--have done it?" he inquired.

"Nietzsche," said Edna, instructively superior even in such a crisis;
"most certainly not. Even if he had _owned_ a dragon!"

"You told me he did," he insisted; "a great meta-something dragon that
talked and said, 'Thou shalt not.' But if he wouldn't send _his_ dragon
for anybody, he would approve of my sending mine for _you_, because I
was doing as he advised, and acting exactly as I thought fit."

She realised the hopelessness of reasoning with him. "You thought fit to
act most improperly," she said severely, "and you will gain nothing _by_
it, you know!"

"Oh, yes I shall," he said, "or I shouldn't have done it."

"You are quite mistaken," she assured him, "if you are imagining I shall
ever consent to renew our engagement now I know what you _are_."

"I'm what you wanted me to be," he said, "a Superman."

"You're not, you're an--an Ogre. I couldn't possibly bring myself to
become an Ogress!"

"You wouldn't make much of an Ogress," he said dispassionately. "You
haven't the build for it. But I'm not an Ogre even yet. It's not _my_
fault. I meant to begin with those pages of yours--but you all seemed to
have some ridiculous objections. Then I've sent Tuetzi out to forage and
pick up a small child or two, but the peasants round here are so selfish
and unneighbourly that they never give him the chance--actually shutting
all the children up indoors!"

"What else can you _expect_?" she demanded indignantly. "Surely
your--your better self must see that even to _attempt_ to devour poor
helpless children is--is too perfectly disgusting for words!"

"It's disgusting when one doesn't succeed," he admitted; "I see nothing
in it to object to myself. Of course the average man may, but you've
taught me what to think of _his_ opinions."

"You entirely misunderstand me," said Edna. "But I've no wish to discuss
such subjects with you now--I insist on you