cession, "you know well enough I don't want to hurt Betty's feelings.
If she feels that way about it, of course I'll apologize."

His partner looked at him in blank amazement.

"Gad!" he exclaimed as if examining a particularly fine specimen of some
rare beetle, "what a bounder."

"Meaning me?" snapped George.

"Don't dare to quibble. Look me in the eye."

There was a third degree fatality about the usually debonair Penny that
exacted obedience. George unwillingly looked him in the eye, and had a
ghastly feeling of having his suddenly realized smallness X-rayed.

"You know damned well you acted like a cad," Penny continued, "and I
want to know, for all our sakes, if you're man enough to own it?"

George's fundamental honesty mastered him. Anger died from his eyes. His
clenched hands relaxed and began an unconscious and nervous exploration
for a cigarette.

"Since you put it that way," he said, "and it happens that my conscience
agrees with you--I'll go you. I _was_ a cad, and I'll tell Betty so.
Confound it!" he growled, "I don't know _what's_ come over me these
days. I've got to get a grip on myself."

"You _bet_ you have," said Penny, hauling his fists from his trousers as
if with an effort. Then he grinned. "Betty said you would."

George's eyes darkened.

"And I'll tell you now," Penny went on, "since you've turned out at
least half-decent, Betty'll let you off that apology thing. _She_
wasn't the one who was exacting it--not she. _I_ couldn't stand for
your highfalutin excuses for being--well, never mind--we all get our off
days. But don't you get off again like that if----" Penny hesitated.
"If you want me for a partner," which seemed the obvious conclusion, was
tame. "If you want to hang on to any one's respect," he finished.

"Say, though," he murmured, "Betty'll give me 'what for' for drubbing
you. She actually took your side--said--oh, never mind--tried to make
me think of her just as if she was any old Mamie--the stenog--tried to
prune out personal feeling."

"By Jove," he ruminated, "that girl's a corker!"

He raised forgiving eyes from his contemplation of the rug.

"Well, old man, blow me to a Scotch and soda, and I'll be going. Dinged
if it wouldn't have broken me all up to have busted with you, even if
you are a box of prunes. Shake."

George shook, but he was far from happy. What he had gained in peace of
mind he had lost in self-conceit. His resentment against the pinch of
circumstan