cathed; if he is--just a man, he is
attracted to the candle like the proverbial moth and sometimes singes
his wings----"

She looked at him keenly for a moment as if trying to read on his
sphinx-like face if he knew more about Kenneth than he admitted, and
then with forced calmness she said:

"In your opinion, Signor Keralio--is my husband a man--of unusual
character, or is he--just a man?"

The Italian shrugged his shoulders as he replied deprecatingly:

"My dear madam, just stop and think a moment. Isn't that a rather
indiscreet question to put to a man--a man who is a friend of your
husband----"

Hotly she turned on him.

"If you are his friend, why do you vilify and slander him behind his
back?"

Keralio lifted up his long slender hands in pious protest.

"I vilify--my best friend---- Oh, my dear Mrs. Traynor--you have quite
misunderstood me. I am a foreigner. Perhaps it is that I express
myself ill."

She shook her head skeptically. Firmly she said:

"No, Signor Keralio--you express yourself quite plainly. Now, I'll be
equally frank with you. I confess there is one thing I do not
understand. I have never understood it. I do not understand why my
husband, a man so honorable, so straightforward in his dealings, a man
so free from intrigue or reckless adventures, so regular, methodical
and temperate in his habits, a man so entirely apart from the reckless,
immoral kind of life you hint at, should have made a friend of
_you_----"

The Italian raised his eyebrows, but there was only an amused smile on
his bloodless lips as he said with a mock bow:

"Thank you, madam. You are very flattering."

"No--I mean it. I don't want to seem unkind, but your temperament and
my husband's are as wide apart as the poles."

He opened wide his eyes as he asked,

"In what particular, _s'il vous plait_?"

"Kenneth is frank, outspoken. He is not the type of man who takes rash
risks. He is very conservative, scrupulously honest. He has fine
ideals. While you----"

He laughed loudly.

"I? I am secretive, cunning, reckless, materialistic--is that it,
madam?"

"I did not say so, but since you draw your portrait so well----"

He bit his lip. This girl with the flaxen hair and large lustrous eyes
was more than a match for him in a battle of wits. He was making no
headway at all. It was time to play his trump card. Softly he said:

"You said your husband was judicious, conservative----"

"So he i