n't think--you
quite mean it?"

"I can assure you I do," he answered drily. "My world consists of myself
for the central figure, and the half a dozen or so of people who are
useful or amusing to me! Except that the rest are needed to keep moving
the machinery of the world, they might all perish, so far as I was
concerned."

"I don't think," Mrs. Travers said softly, "that I should like to be in
your world."

"I can very easily believe you," he answered.

"Unless," she remarked tentatively, "I came to convert!"

He nodded.

"There is something in that," he admitted. "It would be a great work, a
little difficult, you know."

"All the more interesting!"

"You see," he continued, "I am not only bad, but I admire badness. My
wish is to remain bad--in fact, I should like to be worse if I knew how.
You would find it hard to make a start. I couldn't even admit that a
state of goodness was desirable!"

She looked at him curiously. The night air was perhaps getting colder,
for she shivered, and drew the rug a little closer around her.

"You speak like a prophet," she remarked.

"A prophet of evil then!"

She looked at him steadfastly. The lightness had gone out of her tone.

"Do you know," she said, "I am almost sorry that I ever knew you?"

He shook his head.

"You can't mean it," he declared.

"Why not?"

"I have done you the greatest service one human being can render
another! I have saved you from being bored!"

She nodded.

"That may be true," she admitted. "But can you conceive no worse state
in the world than being bored?"

"There is no worse state," he answered drily. "I was bored once," he
added, "for ten years or so; I ought to know!"

"Were you married?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Not quite so bad as that," he answered. "I was in prison!"

She turned a startled face towards him.

"Nonsense!"

"It is perfectly true," he said coolly. "Are you horrified?"

"What did you do?" she asked in a low tone.

"I killed a man."

"Purposely?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"He attacked me! I had to defend myself."

She said nothing for several moments.

"Shall I go?" he asked.

"No! Sit still," she answered. "I am frightened of you, but I don't want
you to go away. I want to think.... Yes! I can understand you better
now! Your life was spoilt!"

"By no means," he answered. "I am still young! I am going to make up for
those ten years."

She shook her head.

"You cannot," she a