cted of
them. Morality, too, may become a custom--until temptation comes. One
must ask oneself what is the force which prompts these people to direct
their lives in so praiseworthy a manner."

"You forget," she remarked, "that these are simple folk. Their religion
with them is simply a matter of right or wrong. They need no further
instruction in this."

"Madam," he said, "so long as they are living here, that may be so.
Frankly, I do not consider it sufficient that their lives are seemly, so
long as they live in the shadow of your patronage. What happens to those
who pass outside its influence is another matter."

"What do you know about that?" she asked coldly.

"What I do know about it," he answered, "decided me to come to Thorpe."

There was a moment's silence. Any of the other three, Gilbert Deyes
especially, perhaps, would have found it hard to explain, even to
realize the interest with which they listened to the conversation
between these two--the somewhat unkempt, ill-attired boy, with the
nervous, forceful manner and burning eyes, and the woman, so sure of
herself, so coldly and yet brutally ungracious. It was not so much the
words themselves that passed between them that attracted as the
undernote of hostility, more felt than apparent--the beginning of a
duel, to all appearance so ludicrously onesided, yet destined to endure.
Deyes turned in his chair uneasily. He was watching this intruder--a
being outwardly so far removed from their world. The niceties of a
correct toilet had certainly never troubled him, his clothes were rough
in material and cut, he wore a flannel shirt, and a collar so low that
his neck seemed ill-shaped. He had no special gifts of features or
figure, his manner was nervous, his speech none too ready. Deyes found
himself engaged in a swift analysis of the subtleties of personality.
What did this young man possess that he should convey so strong a sense
of power? There was something about him which told. They were all
conscious of it, and, more than any of them, the woman who was regarding
him with such studied ill-favour. To the others, her still beautiful
face betrayed only some languid irritation. Deyes fancied that he saw
more there--that underneath the mask which she knew so well how to wear
there were traces of some deeper disturbance.

"Do you mind explaining yourself?" she asked. "That sounds rather an
extraordinary statement of yours."

"A few months ago," he said, "I atte