er in his
hand. In such a case I should have pitched him through the window,
revolver, plaid, and Indian slippers. But he did not come back; I
waited a long time in vain. I do not know what he was doing there;
whether he was thinking over his misery, weeping, or perfectly
indifferent. We all three met again at lunch, and he was sitting there
as if nothing unusual had happened. Perhaps it was my fancy that
made me think that Laura looked menacingly at him, and also that his
apathetic expression was even more mournful than usual. I confess that
such a tame ending of the business is the most painful to me. I am not
one to provoke a quarrel, but ready to answer for my deeds; finally, I
would rather the man were not so defenceless, such a small, miserable
creature. I have a nasty feeling, as if I had knocked down a cripple,
and never yet felt so disgusted with myself.

We went out in the boat as usual. I did not want Laura to think I was
afraid of Davis; but there we had our first quarrel. I confessed to
her my scruples and she laughed at them. I said to her plainly,--

"The laughter does not become you; and remember, you may do most
things, but not what is not becoming."

There was a deep frown on the meeting eyebrows, and she replied
bitterly,--

"After what has passed between us, you may insult me even with more
impunity than you could Davis."

After such a reproach there remained nothing else but to ask her
forgiveness; and presently, harmony being restored, Laura began
to talk about herself. I had another instance of her cleverness.
Generally the women I have known intimately showed a desire to tell me
their life. I do not blame them for it; it shows that they feel the
need to justify themselves in their own eyes and ours. We men do
not. Yet I never met a woman either so clever as not to overstep the
artistic proportions in her confession, or so sincere as not to tell
lies in order to justify herself. I call to witness all men who when
the occasion occurs may verify how wonderfully similar all these cases
of going astray are, and consequently how tedious. Laura, too, began
to talk about herself with a certain eager satisfaction, but only in
this respect did she follow the beaten track of other fallen angels.
In what she told me there was a certain posing for originality, but
she was certainly not posing as a victim. Knowing she had to deal with
a sceptic, she did not want to call forth a smile of incredulity. Her