," said she, "what you are going to do."

"To do?" He was genuinely bewildered.

"Yes, to do."

"But about what?"

"About that woman."

He was so charmed with the angelic absurdity of the question that he
paused while he took it in, smiling.

"I can't see," he said presently, "that I'm called upon to take action.
Why should I?"

She drew herself up proudly.

"For my sake."

He was instantly grave. "For your sake, dear, I would do a great deal.
But"--he smiled again--"what action should I take?"

"Is it for me to say?"

"Well, I hardly know. I should be glad, at any rate, if you'd make a
suggestion. I can't, for instance, get up and turn the lady out of her
own sister's house. Do you want me to do that? Would you like me to--to
take her away in a cab?"

There was a long silence, so awful that he forced himself to speak. "I am
extremely sorry. It was, of course, outrageous that you should have had
to sit in the same room with her for five minutes. But what could I do?"

"You could have taken _me_ away."

"I did, as soon as I got the chance."

"Not before you had"--she paused for her phrase--"condoned her
appearance."

"Condoned her appearance? How?"

"By your whole manner to her."

"Would you have had me uncivil?"

"There are degrees," said she, "between incivility and marked attention."

He coloured. "Marked attention! There was nothing marked about it. What
could I do? Would you, I say, have had me turn my back on the unfortunate
woman? That would have been marked attention, if you like."

"I don't know what I would have had you do. One has no rules beforehand
for inconceivable situations. It was inconceivable that I should have met
her as I did, in your friend's house. Inconceivable that I should meet
such people anywhere. What I do ask is that you will not let me be
exposed in that way again."

"That I certainly will not. The Ransomes did their best to get her out
of the room to-day. They won't annoy you. I can't conceive why they
called--except that they have always been rather fond of me. You can't
hold people accountable for all the doings of all their relations, can
you?"

"In this case I should say you could--perfectly well."

"Well, I don't, as it happens. But you needn't have anything to do with
them; not, at least, while she's living in their house."

"It was in the Hannays' house I met her. But I'm not thinking of myself."

"I'm thinking of you, and of nothing else."

"You