u at it again," he said, "there'll be trouble. God damn
you!"

"That is as it may be," said Frank.

The Major had had just one drink too much, and he was in the kind of
expansive mood that changes very rapidly.

"Can you tell me you were not trying to take her from me?" he cried,
almost with pathos in his voice.

This was, of course, exactly what Frank had been trying to do.

"You can't deny it!... Then I tell you this, Mr. Frankie"--the Major
sprang up--"one word more from you to her on that subject ... and ...
and you'll know it. D'you understand me?"

He thrust his face forward almost into Frank's.

It was an unpleasant face at most times, but it was really dangerous
now. His lips lay back, and the peculiar hot smell of spirit breathed
into Frank's nostrils. Frank turned and looked into his eyes.

"I understand you perfectly," he said. "There's no need to say any more.
And now, if you'll forgive me, I must get back to my work."

He took up his cap and went out.

* * * * *

The Major, as has been said, had had one glass too much, and he had,
accordingly, put into words what, even in his most suspicious moments,
he had intended to keep to himself. It might be said, too, that he had
put into words what he did not really think. But the Major was, like
everyone else, for good or evil, a complex character, and found it
perfectly possible both to believe and disbelieve the same idea
simultaneously. It depended in what stratum the center of gravity
happened to be temporarily suspended. One large part of the Major knew
perfectly well, therefore, that any jealousy of Frank was simply
ridiculous--the thing was simply alien; and another part, not so large,
but ten times more concentrated, judged Frank by the standards by which
the Major (_qua_ blackguard) conducted his life. For people who lived
usually in that stratum, making love to Gertie, under such
circumstances, would have been an eminently natural thing to do, and,
just now, the Major chose to place Frank amongst them.

The Major himself was completely unaware of these psychological
distinctions, and, as he sat, sunk in his chair, brooding, before
stepping out to attend to Gertie, he was entirely convinced that his
suspicions were justified. It seemed to him now that numberless little
details out of the past fitted, with the smoothness of an adjusted
puzzle, into the framework of his thought.

There was, first, the very remar