band
would be horsewhipped.' When you were kind I was little more than a dog
you liked to pet. I thought that was how all women were treated. I know
differently now. You will earn money through me, for it is my duty to my
son, but you have earned something else."

"Yes?" queried Gregorio.

"My hate. Surely you are not surprised? I have learned what love is
these last few days, have learned what a real man is like. I know you to
be what he called you, a cur and a coward. I should never have learned
this but for you, and I am grateful, very grateful. It is useless
to swear and to threaten me with your fists. You dare not strike me,
because, were you to injure me, you would lose your money. You have
tried to degrade me, and you have failed. I am happier than I have ever
been, and far, far wiser. When a woman learns what a man's love is,
she becomes wiser in a day than if she had studied books for a hundred
years."

Xantippe ceased speaking and, taking her son in her arms, closed her
eyes and fell asleep quietly, a gentle smile hovering round her lips.

Gregorio scowled at her savagely, and would have liked to strike her,
to beat out his passion on her white breast and shoulders. But she had
spoken only the truth when she said he dare not touch her. With impotent
oaths he sought to let off the anger that boiled in him. He feared
to think, and every word she had uttered made him think in spite of
himself. The events of sixty hours had destroyed what little of good
there was in the man. Save only the idolatrous love for his child, he
scarcely retained one ennobling quality.

Little by little his anger cooled, his shame died out of him, and he
began to wonder curiously what manner of man this was whose words had so
stirred his wife. Wondering he fell asleep, nor did he awaken till the
sun was risen.

While eating his breakfast he inquired cunningly concerning this wise
teacher of the gospels of love and hate, but Xantippe for a time did not
answer.

"Is he a Greek?"

"No."

"A Frenchman?"

"No."

"A German?"

"No."

Suddenly Gregorio felt a kind of cramp at his heart, and he had to
pause before he put the next question. He could scarcely explain why
he hesitated, but he called to mind the Paradise cafe and the red-faced
Englishman. He was ready enough to sacrifice his wife if by so doing
money might be gained, but he felt somehow hurt in his vanity at the
idea of this ugly, slow-witted Northerner usurping h