er husband--Society will
forgive, it will be all right."

"By Jove, Paul," growled Mr. Treffry, "wonderful power of argument!"

"A wife is a wife," pursued Herr Paul; "a man has a right to her
society."

"What do you say to that, sir?" asked Dawney.

Mr. Treffry tugged at his beard: "Make a woman live with you, if she
don't want to? I call it low."

"But, my dear," exclaimed Herr Paul, "how should you know? You have not
been married."

"No, thank the Lord!" Mr. Treffry replied.

"But looking at the question broadly, sir," said Dawney; "if a husband
always lets his wife do as she likes, how would the thing work out? What
becomes of the marriage tie?"

"The marriage tie," growled Mr. Treffry, "is the biggest thing there is!
But, by Jove, Doctor, I'm a Dutchman if hunting women ever helped the
marriage tie!"

"I am not thinking of myself," Herr Paul cried out, "I think of the
community. There are rights."

"A decent community never yet asked a man to tread on his self-respect.
If I get my fingers skinned over my marriage, which I undertake at my own
risk, what's the community to do with it? D'you think I'm going to whine
to it to put the plaster on? As to rights, it'd be a deuced sight better
for us all if there wasn't such a fuss about 'em. Leave that to women! I
don't give a tinker's damn for men who talk about their rights in such
matters."

Sarelli rose. "But your honour," he said, "there is your honour!"

Mr. Treffry stared at him.

"Honour! If huntin' women's your idea of honour, well--it isn't mine."

"Then you'd forgive her, sir, whatever happened," Dawney said.

"Forgiveness is another thing. I leave that to your sanctimonious
beggars. But, hunt a woman! Hang it, sir, I'm not a cad!" and bringing
his hand down with a rattle, he added: "This is a subject that don't bear
talking of."

Sarelli fell back in his seat, twirling his moustaches fiercely. Harz,
who had risen, looked at Christian's empty place.

'If I were married!' he thought suddenly.

Herr Paul, with a somewhat vinous glare, still muttered, "But your duty
to the family!"

Harz slipped through the window. The moon was like a wonderful white
lantern in the purple sky; there was but a smoulder of stars. Beneath the
softness of the air was the iciness of the snow; it made him want to run
and leap. A sleepy beetle dropped on its back; he turned it over and
watched it scurry across the grass.

Someone was playing Schum