ference we call sex. In man or woman that is the one
unalterable fact--the last reality."

He spoke coldly, brutally almost, as if he, like herself, was blind
to the pathos of her ignored and rejected womanhood.

She seemed to be thinking that last point over.

"Yes," she said, "I'm glad you came. I believe you can help me."

"I shall be delighted if I can."

"What do you think of Mrs. Fazakerly?"

Durant was a little taken aback by the suddenness of the question.

"What should I think?"

"I--I hardly know."

She knitted her black brows till they almost touched, and propped
her chin with her hand, as if she were oppressed with the weight of
her own thoughts. It struck him that her provincial mind entertained
an unreasonable suspicion of the consummate little widow, a woman's
jealousy of the superior creature compact of sex; and a sense of
justice made him inclined to defend Mrs. Fazakerly. Besides, he
liked Mrs. Fazakerly; she, at any rate, was not a bore.

"She's a very amusing woman, and I should say she was an uncommonly
good sort, too."

To his surprise her face brightened. "Should you? Should you say
that she had a good heart?"

"Really, Miss Tancred, I can't see into Mrs. Fazakerly's heart, but
I wouldn't mind betting----"

"That she's good? And affectionate? And straight?"

"Straight as a die."

"And honest?"

"Oh, Lord, yes." He wondered whatever primitive meaning she attached
to the word.

"Well, if you think that----"

"Mind you, my opinion may be utterly worthless."

"No, no. It's just the very sort of opinion I want."

"Why should it be?"

"Because it's the opinion of a man of the world. Mrs. Fazakerly's a
woman of the world, so I thought you'd understand her. I don't."

"I've known her exactly a week, and you?"

"Two years. But then I don't observe character, and you do. And yet
I have an intuition."

"Then by all means trust your intuition."

"That's it--I daren't. The truth is, I'm afraid of myself--my
motives."

"Your motives are not yourself."

"Aren't they? If it wasn't for them I should be certain. I see she's
a dear little woman, and I know that I like her."

"Then, for Heaven's sake, go on liking her; it's the best thing you
can do."

"Isn't it rather horrid to like a person just because they may be of
use to you?"

"Not in the least. You were pleased to say I might be of use to you,
and I'm sure I hope you like me."

"Yes, I like you; but I think I like y