, and there was laughter in his voice as he said,
"But I never professed to be trustworthy."

"Oh, I know you _used_ to--" She laughed and kissed his cheek. "Never
mind. I've heard. But while you were engaged to me--about to marry
me--why, you simply couldn't!"

"Couldn't what?" inquired he.

"Do you want me to tell you what he said?"

"I think I know. But do as you like."

"Maybe I'd better tell you. I seem to want to get rid of it."

"Then do."

"It was about that girl." She sat upright and looked at him for
encouragement. He nodded. She went on: "He said that if I asked you, you
would not dare deny you were--were--giving her money."

"Her and her father."

She shrank, startled. Then her lips smiled bravely, and she said, "He
didn't say anything about her father."

"No. That was my own correction of his story."

She looked at him with wonder and doubt. "You aren't--_doing_ it, Fred!"
she exclaimed.

He nodded. "Yes, indeed." He looked at her placidly. "Why not?"

"You are _supporting_ her?"

"If you wish to put it that way," said he carelessly. "My money pays the
bills--all the bills."

"Fred!"

"Yes? What is it? Why are you so agitated?" He studied her face, then
rose, took a final pull at the cigarette, tossed it in the fire. "I must
be going," he said, in a cool, even voice.

She started up in a panic. "Fred! What do you mean? Are you angry with
me?"

His calm regard met hers. "I do not like--this sort of thing," he said.

"But surely you'll explain. Surely I'm entitled to an explanation."

"Why should I explain? You have evidently found an explanation that
satisfies you." He drew himself up in a quiet gesture of haughtiness.
"Besides, it has never been my habit to allow myself to be questioned or
to explain myself."

Her eyes widened with terror. "Fred!" she gasped. "What _do_ you mean?"

"Precisely what I say," said he, in the same cool, inevitable way. "A
man came to you with a story about me. You listened. A sufficient answer
to the story was that I am marrying you. That answer apparently does not
content you. Very well. I shall make no other."

She gazed at him uncertainly. She felt him going--and going finally.
She seized him with desperate fingers, cried: "I _am_ content. Oh,
Fred--don't frighten me this way!"

He smiled satirically. "Are you afraid of the scandal--because
everything for the wedding has gone so far?"

"How can you think that!" cried she--perhaps too vigorousl