uch a wife, 's been dead barely three
years, that's his concern. It's true the lady isn't much more than half
his age, and that the whole business would be screamingly funny if it
wasn't disgusting; but still he's a free agent. And Marguerite's a free
agent too, I hope. Of course he's thunder-struck to discover that
Marguerite _is_ a free agent. He would be!"

"He certainly is in a state," said George, with an uneasy short laugh.

Agg continued:

"And why is he in a state? Because Marguerite says she shall leave the
house? Not a bit. Only because of what he thinks is the scandal of her
leaving. Mr. Haim is a respectable man. He's simply all respectability.
Respectability's his god--Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Always has been.
He'd sacrifice everything to respectability--except the lovely Lobley.
It's not respectable in a respectable family for a girl to leave home on
account of her stepmother. And so he's in a state, if you please!... If
he wanted to carry on with Mrs. Lobley, let him carry on with her. But
no! That's not respectable. He's just got to marry her!" Agg sneered.

George was startled, perhaps excusably, at the monstrous doctrine
implied in Agg's remarks. He had thought himself a man of the world,
experienced, unshockable. But he blenched, and all his presence of mind
was needed to preserve a casual, cool demeanour. The worst of the trial
was Marguerite's tranquil acceptance of the attitude of her friend. She
glanced at Agg in silent, admiring approval. He surmised that until that
moment he had been perfectly ignorant of what girls really were.

"I see," said George courageously. And then, strangely, he began to
admire too. And he pulled himself together.

"I think I shall leave to-morrow," Marguerite announced. "Morning. It
will be much better. She can look after him. I don't see that I owe any
duty ..."

"Yes, you do, dear," Agg corrected her impressively. "You owe a duty to
your mother--to her memory. That's the duty you owe. I'll come round for
you to-morrow myself in a four-wheeler--let me see, about eleven."

George hated the sound of the word 'duty.'

"Thank you, dear," Marguerite murmured, and the girls shook hands; they
did not kiss.

"Bye-bye, Princey."

"Bye-bye, Agg."

"Good night, Mr. Cannon."

Agg departed, slightly banging the door.

"I think I'll go back home now," said Marguerite, in a sweet, firm tone.
"Had they gone out?"

"Who? Your father and What's-her-name? She's go