replied Madame Piriac. "That is exaltation. It is
morbid. I do not say that it is not right for her. I do not say that she is
not justified, and that that which she represents is not justified. But I
say that a role such as hers is not your role. To commence, she does not
interest herself in men. For her there are no men in the world--there are
only political enemies. Do you think I do not know the type? We have it,
_chez nous_. It is full of admirable qualities--but it is not your type.
For you, darling, the world is inhabited principally by men, and the time
will come--perhaps soon--when for you it will be inhabited principally by
one man. If you remain obdurate, there must inevitably arrive a quarrel
between that man and these--these riotous adventures."

"No man that I could possibly care for," Audrey retorted, "would ever
object to me having an active interest in--er--politics."

"I agree, darling," said Madame Piriac. "He would not object. It is you who
would object. The quarrel would occur within your own heart. There are two
sorts of women--individualists and fanatics. It was always so. I am a
woman, and I know what I'm saying. So do you. Well, you belong to the first
sort of woman."

"I don't," Audrey protested. Nevertheless she recollected her thoughts on
the previous night, near the binnacle and Mr. Gilman, about the
indispensability of a man and about the futility of the state of not owning
and possessing a man. The memory of these thoughts only rendered her more
obstinate.

"But you will not have the courage to tell me that you are a fanatic?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"There is a third sort of woman."

"Darling, believe me, there is not."

"There's going to be, anyhow!" said Audrey with decision, and in English.
"And I won't leave Jane Foley in the lurch, either!... Now I'll just run up
and have a talk with her, if you don't mind waiting a minute or two."

"But what are you going to do?" Madame Piriac demanded.

"Well," said Audrey. "It is obvious that there is only one safe thing to
do. I shall take Jane on board the yacht. We shall sail off, and she'll be
safe."

"On the yacht!" repeated Madame Piriac, truly astounded. "But my poor oncle
will never agree. You do not know him. You do not know how peculiar he is.
Never will he agree! Besides----"

"Darling," said Audrey quietly and confidently. "If he does not agree, I
undertake to go into a convent for the rest of my days."

Madame Piriac wa