ng in that book to startle him
or make him think.

The moon-faced member with the patent boots came up and began talking of
his recent visit to the south of France. He had a scandalous anecdote or
two to tell, and his broad face beamed behind his gold nose-nippers; he
was a large man with such a store of easy, worldly humour that it
was impossible not to appreciate his gossip, he gave so perfect an
impression of enjoying life, and doing himself well. "Well, good-night!"
he murmured--"An engagement!"--and the certainty he left behind that his
engagement must be charming and illicit was pleasant to the soul.

And, slowly taking up his glass, Shelton drank; the sense of well-being
was upon him. His superiority to these his fellow-members soothed him.
He saw through all the sham of this club life, the meanness of this
worship of success, the sham of kid-gloved novelists, "good form,"
and the terrific decency of our education. It was soothing thus to see
through things, soothing thus to be superior; and from the soft recesses
of his chair he puffed out smoke and stretched his limbs toward the
fire; and the fire burned back at him with a discreet and venerable
glow.

CHAPTER VIII

THE WEDDING

Punctual to his word, Bill Dennant called for Shelton at one o'clock.

"I bet old Benjy's feeling a bit cheap," said he, as they got out of
their cab at the church door and passed between the crowded files of
unelect, whose eyes, so curious and pitiful, devoured them from the
pavement.

The ashen face of a woman, with a baby in her arms and two more by
her side, looked as eager as if she had never experienced the pangs of
ragged matrimony. Shelton went in inexplicably uneasy; the price of
his tie was their board and lodging for a week. He followed his future
brother-in-law to a pew on the bridegroom's side, for, with intuitive
perception of the sexes' endless warfare, each of the opposing parties
to this contract had its serried battalion, the arrows of whose
suspicion kept glancing across and across the central aisle.

Bill Dennant's eyes began to twinkle.

"There's old Benjy!" he whispered; and Shelton looked at the hero of the
day. A subdued pallor was traceable under the weathered uniformity of
his shaven face; but the well-bred, artificial smile he bent upon the
guests had its wonted steely suavity. About his dress and his neat
figure was that studied ease which lifts men from the ruck of common
bridegrooms. There