ed him and his awful knowledge and
floored him with just that--the thing's inherent, palpable
absurdity. And if _that_ wasn't clever of her!----

"Of course not." He was eager in his assent; it was wrung from him.
He added with apparent irrelevance, "After all, he's honest."

"You must be something."

She turned to him, radiant and terrible, rejoicing in her murderous
phrase. It intimated that only by his honesty did Mr. Higginson
maintain his foothold on existence.

"I think," said Straker, "it's time to dress for dinner."

They turned and went slowly toward the house. On the terrace, watch
in hand, Mr. Higginson stood alone and conspicuous, shining in his
single attribute of honesty.

That evening Furnival sought Straker out in a lonely corner of the
smoke-room. His face was flushed and defiant. He put it to Straker
point-blank.

"I say, what's she up to, that friend of yours, Miss T-Tarrant?"

He stammered over her name. Her name excited him.

Straker intimated that it was not given him to know what Miss
Tarrant might or might not be up to.

Furnival shook his head. "I can't make her out. Upon my honor, I
can't."

Straker wondered what Furny's honor had to do with it.

"Why is she hanging round like this?"

"Hanging round?"

"Yes. You know what I mean. Why doesn't somebody marry her?" He made
a queer sound in his throat, a sound of unspeakable interrogation.
"Why haven't you married her yourself?"

Straker was loyal. "You'd better ask her why she hasn't married me."

Furnival brooded. "I've a good mind to."

"I should if I were you," said Straker encouragingly.

Furnival sighed heavily. "Look here," he said, "what's the matter
with her? Is she difficult, or what?"

"Frightfully difficult," said Straker, with conviction. His tone
implied that Furnival would never understand her, that he hadn't the
brain for it.

IV

And yet, Straker reminded himself, Furnival wasn't an ass. He had
brain for other things, for other women; for poor Nora Viveash quite
a remarkable sufficiency of brain, but not for Philippa Tarrant.
You could see how he was being driven by her. He was in that state
when he would have done anything to get her. There was no folly and
no extravagance that he would not commit. And yet, driven as he was,
it was clear that he resented being driven, that he was not going
all the way. His kicking, his frantic dashes and plunges, showed
that the one extravagance, the one folly he wou