m _gorged_. When I heard you were down here,
I said, "By George! I'll go and see her. I can talk to Elise. She's
got some sense."'

'What a thing to say about a woman!'

'Don't chaff me, Elise. I can't stand it. I'm frightfully
upset--really.'

'What has Marian been doing to you?''

'Nothing, except making a blithering ass of me. You know, I was
fearfully keen on her, and I've passed up all sorts of fluff so as to do
the decent; but when that brute Heckles-Jennings advised me to-night to
be sure and sit out a dance with Marian because she was such hot stuff,
he said . . . Of course, he's an outsider and all that, and I told him
to go to hell--but you don't blame me for feeling cut up, do you, Elise?'

'Didn't you know she was that kind?'

'What kind?'

'Oh--the--the universal kisser--the complete osculator--the'----

'I say'----

'But surely you don't think you are the only one she has made a fool of?
To begin with, there's her husband in France--a brother-officer, Horace.'

Maynard wriggled uneasily, sliding down the chair in the movement until
his knees were very near his chin.

'He's a rotter, Elise.'

'Do you know him?'

'N-no. But Marian says he absolutely neglects her. He's one of those
cold-blooded fish--doesn't understand her a bit. After all'--the extra
vehemence shifted him another few inches, so that he presented an
extraordinary figure, like the hump of a dromedary--'women must have
sympathy. They need it. They'----

'Oh, Horace!' Elise burst into a laugh. 'Are there really some of you
left? How refreshing! Why don't you put it on your card: "2nd Lt.
Horace Maynard, Grenadier Guards, soul-mate by appointment"?'

'I wish you wouldn't laugh like that.'

He was a picture of such utter dejection that, checking her mirth, Elise
laid her hand on his arm. 'Sorry, Horace. You know, if it hadn't been
for this war we might never have known how _nice_ our men are. I only
wonder how it is that the women have the heart to make such fools of you.'

The unhappy warrior pulled himself up to a fairly upright posture and
tapped his cigarette against the palm of his hand. 'I'm glad,' he said
with a slight blush, 'that you don't quite put me down as a rotter. I
don't know what's come over us all. Before the war, when you met a
chap's wife--well, hang it all!--she was his wife, and that was all there
was about it. But nowadays'----

'I know, Horace, it's a miserable business altogeth