of and so rarely
berated for excess.

"Gratitude is one of the evils of the world. I fancy that few other
emotions have done more harm. In moderation it has its uses, but in
excess it becomes vicious. It is a form of voluntary servitude; it
absolutely destroys all respect for public law; it is the foundation
of tyrannies; it is the secret of political corruption; it is the
thing that holds dynasties together, family despotism; it is
soul-mortgage, bribery. It is a monster of what the Americans call
graft. It is chloroform to the conscience, to patriotism, to every
sense of public duty. 'Scratch my back, and I am your slave'--that's
gratitude."

Mr. Verrinder rarely spoke at such length or with such apothegm.

Marie Louise was a little more dazed than ever to hear gratitude
denounced. She was losing all her bearings. Next he demanded:

"But admitting that you were duped by your gratitude, how did it
happen that your curiosity never led you to inquire into the nature of
those messages?"

"I respected Sir Joseph beyond all people. I supposed that what he did
was right. I never knew it not to be. And then--well, if, I did wonder
a little once in a while, I thought I'd better mind my own business."

Verrinder had his opinion of this, too. "Minding your own business!
That's another of those poisonous virtues. Minding your own business
leads to pacifism, malevolent neutrality, selfishness of every sort.
It's death to charity and public spirit. Suppose the Good Samaritan
had minded his own business! But-- Well, this is getting us no
forwarder with you. You carried those messages, and never felt even a
woman's curiosity about them! You met Nicky Easton often, and never
noted his German accent, never suspected that he was not the
Englishman he pretended to be. Is that true?"

He saw by the wild look in her eyes and their escape from his own that
he had scored a hit. He did not insist upon her acknowledging it.

"And your only motive was gratitude?"

"Yes, sir."

"You never asked any pay for it?"

"No, sir."

"You never received anything for it?"

"No, sir."

"We find the record of a transfer to you of securities for some twenty
thousand pounds. Why was that given you?"

"It--it was just out of generosity. Sir Joseph said he was afraid I
might be--that his will might be broken, and--"

"Ah! you discussed his will with him, then?"

She was horrified at his implication. She cried, "Oh, I begged him not
to, bu