sked evenly.

"I've loved her from the first moment I saw her," he exclaimed. "She
is everything, everything that a woman should be. Amiable, charitable,
beautiful, talented, intellectual." He paused and threw out his arms
with an appealing gesture. "I can't understand why you don't see it,
Roger, why you can't see her as I see her."

I was beginning to realize that the situation was one to be handled
with discretion. He was in a frame of mind where active opposition
would only add fuel to his flame.

"I'm sorry that I've grown to be so critical, Jerry. You forget that
I've never much cared for the sex."

It seemed that this was just the reply to restore him to partial
sanity, for his face broke in a smile.

"I forgot, old Dry-as-dust. You don't like 'em--don't like any of 'em.
That's different. But you _will_ like Marcia. You _shall_. Why, Roger,
she's an angel. You couldn't help liking her."

I smiled feebly. My acquaintance with decadent angels had been
limited. I turned the subject adroitly.

"Have you discovered who Una is?" I asked.

"No. Marcia wouldn't tell me. She only laughed at me, but I really
wanted to know. She _was_ a nice girl, Roger, and I'd hate to have her
shown in a false light. Not that Marcia would do that, of course, but
girls are queer. I think she really resented our acquaintance. I can't
imagine why."

"Nor I," I said shortly. "She doesn't _own_ you, does she?"

He looked up at me with a blank expression.

"No, I suppose not," he said slowly.

I followed up my advantage swiftly.

"It's rather curious, Jerry, this attraction Miss Van Wyck has for
you. A moment ago you were chivalrous enough in your hope that Una's
identity would not be discovered. Was this chivalry genuine? Were you
sorry on Una's account or on your own? I really want to know. You
liked Una, Jerry. Didn't you?"

"Yes, but--"

"She seemed a very interesting, a fine, even a noble creature. The
thought of a girl doing the sort of things she was doing made you
reproach yourself for your idleness--your cowardice, I think you
called it. Now what I'd like to discover is whether you've quite
forgotten the impression she made--the ideal she left in your mind?"

"Of course not. My ideals are still the same. I've tried to tell you
that I'm going to put them into practice," he muttered.

"You've forgotten the impression made by Una herself; what reason have
you for believing that you won't forget the ideals also?"

"