innocence, the feminine solution of all
intellectual concepts. She, the woman, is the soul of conflicting
England. She is torn both ways. But as she has to breed men, some day,
she is instinctively on our side. She is invaluable to me. She inspires
my poems. You may not believe it, but she is at the back of my
political articles. You must really be a little more broad-minded,
Major, and look at these things from the right point of view. From the
point of view of my work, she is merely a symbol."

"And you?" said I, wrathfully. "What are you to her? Do you suppose she
takes you for a symbol? I wish to Heaven she did. A round cipher of
naught, the symbol of inanity. She takes you for an honourable
gentleman. I've known the child since she was born. As good a little
girl as you could wish to meet."

He drew himself up. "That's the opinion of her I am endeavouring to
express."

"Quite so. You win a good decent girl's affection,--if you hadn't, she
would never have let you walk about with her at nightfall, with your
arm round her waist,--and you have the cynical audacity to say that
she's only a symbol."

"When you asked me to come in this evening," said he, "I naturally
concluded you would broach this subject. I came prepared to give you a
complete explanation of what I am ready to admit was a compromising
situation."

"There is only one explanation," said I angrily. "What are your
intentions regarding the girl?"

He smiled. "Quite honourable."

"You mean marriage?"

"Oh, no," said he, emphatically.

"Then the other thing? That's not honourable."

"Of course not. Certainly not the other thing. I'm not a blackguard."

"Then what on earth are you playing at?"

He sighed. "I'm afraid you will never understand."

"I'm afraid I won't," said I. "By your own confession you are neither a
lusty blackguard nor an honourable gentleman. You're a sort of
philanderer, somewhere in between. You neither mean to fight like a man
nor love like a man. I'm sorry to say it, but I've no use for you. As I
can't do it myself, will you kindly ring the bell?"

"Certainly," said he, white with anger, which I was glad to see, and
pressed the electric button beside the mantelpiece. He turned on me,
his head high. There was still some breeding left in him.

"I'm sorry we're at such cross-purposes, Major. All my life long I've
owed you kindnesses I can't ever repay. But at present we're hopelessly
out of sympathy!"

"It seems so,"