s wife to remain in perpetual
ignorance of this, for the locket is never to be opened except by
Flamby, and only by Flamby on the day of her wedding. I fear this
popular-novel theme will offend your aesthetic sensibilities, Paul!"

"My dear fellow, I am rapidly approaching the conclusion that life is
made up more of melodrama than of psychological hair-splitting and that
the penmen dear to the servants' hall more truly portray it than Henry
James ever hoped to do or Meredith attempted. The art of to-day is the
art of deliberate avoidance of the violent, and many critics persist in
confusing it with truth. There is nothing precious about selfish,
covetous, lustful humanity; therefore, good literature creates a refined
humanity of its own, which converses in polished periods and never comes
to blows."

"What of _Madame Caligula_? And what of the critics who hailed
_Francesca of the Lilies_ as a tragedy worthy to name with _Othello_!"

"Primitive passions are acceptable if clothed in doublet and hose, Don.
My quarrel with to-day is that it pretends to have lived them down."

"Let us give credit where credit is due. Prussia has not hesitated to
proclaim her sympathy with the primitive. Did you observe an
eagle-crowned helmet above Mrs. Duveen's fireplace?"

"Yes; you know its history?"

"Some part of its history. It was worn by a huge Prussian officer, who,
together with his staff, was surprised and captured during the
operations of March 1st, 1916; a delightful little coup. I believe I
told you that Sergeant Duveen had been degraded, but had afterwards
recovered his stripes?"

"You did, yes."

"It was this incident which led to his losing them. He was taking
particulars of rank and so forth of the prisoners, and this imposing
fellow with the golden helmet stood in front of all the others, arms
folded, head aloft, disdainfully surveying his surroundings. He spoke
perfect English and when Duveen asked him his name and rank and
requested him to hand over the sword he was wearing, he bluntly refused
to have any dealings whatever with a 'damned common sergeant.' Those
were his own words.

"Duveen very patiently pointed out that he was merely performing a duty
for which he had been detailed and added that he resented the Prussian's
language and should have resented it from one of his own officers. He
then repeated the request. The Prussian replied that if he had him in
his own lines he would tie him to a gun and flog