own but his
version of them, and show her the only way of salvation is to kiss her
husband"; and Shelton grinned. "Anyway, I'll bet you anything he takes
her hand and says, 'Dear lady.'"

Halidome turned on him the disapproval of his eyes, and again he said,

"I think Pirbright 's ripping!"

But as Shelton had predicted, so it turned out, amidst great applause.

CHAPTER V

THE GOOD CITIZEN

Leaving the theatre, they paused a moment in the hall to don their
coats; a stream of people with spotless bosoms eddied round the doors,
as if in momentary dread of leaving this hothouse of false morals and
emotions for the wet, gusty streets, where human plants thrive and die,
human weeds flourish and fade under the fresh, impartial skies. The
lights revealed innumerable solemn faces, gleamed innumerably on
jewels, on the silk of hats, then passed to whiten a pavement wet with
newly-fallen rain, to flare on horses, on the visages of cabmen, and
stray, queer objects that do not bear the light.

"Shall we walk?" asked Halidome.

"Has it ever struck you," answered Shelton, "that in a play nowadays
there's always a 'Chorus of Scandalmongers' which seems to have acquired
the attitude of God?"

Halidome cleared his throat, and there was something portentous in the
sound.

"You're so d---d fastidious," was his answer.

"I've a prejudice for keeping the two things separate," went on Shelton.
"That ending makes me sick."

"Why?" replied Halidome. "What other end is possible? You don't want a
play to leave you with a bad taste in your mouth."

"But this does."

Halidome increased his stride, already much too long; for in his walk,
as in all other phases of his life, he found it necessary to be in
front.

"How do you mean?" he asked urbanely; "it's better than the woman making
a fool of herself."

"I'm thinking of the man."

"What man?"

"The husband."

"What 's the matter with him? He was a bit of a bounder, certainly."

"I can't understand any man wanting to live with a woman who doesn't
want him."

Some note of battle in Shelton's voice, rather than the sentiment
itself, caused his friend to reply with dignity:

"There's a lot of nonsense talked about that sort of thing. Women don't
really care; it's only what's put into their heads."

"That's much the same as saying to a starving man: 'You don't really
want anything; it's only what's put into your head!' You are begging the
question, my friend."

B