once--at once--without a moment's loss of time. This
is why I have come here myself. You seem to have something in you which
they take for weakness. You will stand anything. Oh, I know why well
enough. You like to be a martyr--which means saying nothing and
suffering a good deal. But I call it a mistake. I call it irritating,
misleading, actually wrong. If I were a man I would kill people."

"It is easy enough to kill."

"So they say. Be more unscrupulous, dear friend. Give your nature full
play now and again. You can't make me believe that you are ever
natural."

"Some can trust their natures. I don't trust mine."

"Don't you see how much more power you would have over men if you were
more emotional, more spontaneous, more human? Who gives you credit for
self-control? No one. They say you are self-contained--a very different
idea. They say you are cold. Now, I don't care what I do. I follow
every impulse. I must follow them. I had to come here this evening. I
had to tell you about Reckage. The landlord was odious. I met two men on
the staircase. One actually tried to peer into my face. I have never
submitted to such indignities. Heaven knows what they are thinking now.
I shall remember their vile laugh as long as I live. But I was
determined to see you. And here I am. Apparently I have not done much
good by coming. You hardly believe me. You think me an indiscreet
woman."

"I think you are splendid."

"I saw Mrs. Parflete to-day. She is beautiful. But she is indiscreet,
too. All women worth considering are miracles of imprudence."

"Haven't I always said so?"

"Then how can you expect us to like you when you are so--so wise?"

"I don't expect you to like me."

She bit her lip and pretended to check a laugh.

"I suppose you enjoy this room?" she said, glancing round it till her
eyes fell on a small crucifix which was nailed to the wall behind his
chair; "it is so depressing. You are very perverse. And the odd thing
is----"

"Well, what is the odd thing?"

"That you are attracted by Mrs. Parflete. Your style ought to be Saint
Clare or Saint Elizabeth. But not at all. You prefer this exquisite,
wayward, perfectly dressed, extremely young actress. You give your
nature full play in your _taste_, at all events."

"You can urge that much in my favour, then?"

"Yes, that much. Oh, she's pretty. But frivolous and light-hearted--as
light-hearted as Titania. There! I have been wondering what I could call
her.