ak, engagingly weak, Guildea. And you're inclined to flout it. I could
understand a certain class of lady--the lion-hunting, the intellectual
lady, seeking you. Your reputation, your great name----"

"Yes, yes," Guildea interrupted, rather irritably--"I know all that, I
know."

He twisted his long hands together, bending the palms outwards till his
thin, pointed fingers cracked. His forehead was wrinkled in a frown.

"I imagine," he said,--he stopped and coughed drily, almost shrilly--"I
imagine it would be very disagreeable to be liked, to be run after--that
is the usual expression, isn't it--by anything one objected to."

And now he half turned in his chair, crossed his legs one over the
other, and looked at his guest with an unusual, almost piercing
interrogation.

"Anything?" said the Father.

"Well--well, anyone. I imagine nothing could be more unpleasant."

"To you--no," answered the Father. "But--forgive me, Guildea, I cannot
conceive you permitting such intrusion. You don't encourage adoration."

Guildea nodded his head gloomily.

"I don't," he said, "I don't. That's just it. That's the curious part of
it, that I----"

He broke off deliberately, got up and stretched.

"I'll have a pipe, too," he said.

He went over to the mantelpiece, got his pipe, filled it and lighted it.
As he held the match to the tobacco, bending forward with an enquiring
expression, his eyes fell upon the green baize that covered Napoleon's
cage. He threw the match into the grate, and puffed at the pipe as he
walked forward to the cage. When he reached it he put out his hand, took
hold of the baize and began to pull it away. Then suddenly he pushed it
back over the cage.

"No," he said, as if to himself, "no."

He returned rather hastily to the fire and threw himself once more into
his armchair.

"You're wondering," he said to Father Murchison. "So am I. I don't know
at all what to make of it. I'll just tell you the facts and you must
tell me what you think of them. The night before last, after a day of
hard work--but no harder than usual--I went to the front door to get a
breath of air. You know I often do that."

"Yes, I found you on the doorstep when I first came here."

"Just so. I didn't put on hat or coat. I just stood on the step as I
was. My mind, I remember, was still full of my work. It was rather a
dark night, not very dark. The hour was about eleven, or a quarter past.
I was staring at the Park, and present