world."

"Well----"

"Well--there you are! I offer her far more than she could reasonably
hope for; or you for her. I'm well fixed, I know everybody worth
knowing; I can give her a good time, and I can help her to a career. It
strikes me that if you had Susan's good at heart, you'd occasionally
suggest these thing's to her--even urge them upon her. As her guardian
you must have some slight feeling of responsibility?"

"None whatever."

"What!"

"None whatever--so far as Susan's deeper personal life is concerned.
That is her affair, not mine."

"Then you'd be satisfied to have her throw herself away?"

"If she insisted, yes. But Susan's not likely to throw herself away."

"Oh, isn't she! Let me tell you this, Boz, once for all: You're in love
with the girl yourself, and though you may not know it, you've no
intention of letting anyone else have a chance."

"Well," I flashed, "if you were in my shoes--would _you_?"

The vulgarity of our give and take did not escape me, but in my then
state of rage I seemed powerless to escape vulgarity. I revelled in
vulgarity. It refreshed me. I could have throttled Maltby, and I am
quite certain he was itching to throttle me. We were both longing to
throttle Phil. Indeed, we almost leaped at him as he stopped in the hall
doorway to toss us an unnaturally gruff good night.

"Where's Susan?" I demanded.

"In your study," Phil mumbled, hunching into his overcoat; "she's
waiting to see you." Then he seized his shapeless soft hat and--the good
old phrase best describes it--made off.

"She's got to see me first!" Maltby hurled at me, coarsely, savagely, as
he started past.

I grabbed his arm and held him. It thrilled me to realize how soft he
was for all his bulk, to feel that physically I was the stronger.

"Wait!" I said. "This sort of thing has gone far enough. We'll stop
_grovelling_--if you don't mind! If we can't give Susan something better
than this, we've been cheating her. It's a pity she ever left Birch
Street."

Maltby stared at me with slowly stirring comprehension.

"Yes," he at length muttered, grudgingly enough; "perhaps you're right.
It's been an absurd spectacle all round. But then, life is."

"Wait for me here," I responded. "We'll stop butting at each other like
stags, and try to talk things over like men. I'm just going to send
Susan to bed."

That _was_ my intention. I went to her in the study as a big brother
might go, meaning good counsel. It w