ntly at this. "You mean," he said, "it's the only one I
didn't bother about?"

"I _said_ it was the only tolerable one."

"I see." His flush went deep, and his mouth closed over his teeth.

There was no doubt he saw.

She had hurt him badly. It was quite a minute before he spoke again,
and when he did speak you felt that he had yielded, in spite of
himself, to an overpowering curiosity. He must--he seemed to be saying to
himself--sift this mystery to the bottom.

"D'you mean," he said, "that _this_ room doesn't--er--appeal to you?
What's wrong with it?"

"There's nothing wrong with it," she said, "if you like it."

"Never mind whether I like it or not. It's detestable. _And_ the
drawing-room?"

She did not answer. I think she was ashamed of herself.

"Even more so, I suppose. And--your boudoir?"

(I've forgotten the boudoir. She hardly ever let any of us go into it. It
was pretty awful.)

"I do wish," she said, "you'd leave me alone. What _does_ it matter?"

"Your boudoir," he went on, as if she hadn't said anything, "is, if
possible, more detestable than the drawing-room."

"I never said so."

"Precisely. That's my grievance. Why, in Heaven's name, didn't you say
so? Why did you tell me that you _liked_ all these abominations?"

"Because they didn't matter."

"Why lie about them if they didn't matter?"

"I mean they didn't matter to me. They don't."

"My dear child, what on earth do you suppose they matter to me? What made
you think they mattered?"

"The way you went on about them."

"Oh--the way I go on--Well, if _that_ matters--"

She rose. I think she had heard the tinkle of the coffee-cups in the
corridor and wanted to put an end to what in any hands but Jimmy's would
have been an unseemly altercation.

"Will it matter if we go upstairs?"

"No. Not a bit." He snapped and twinkled at the same time.

She went, and Norah followed her.

Jevons settled himself in an armchair. I saw how unperturbed and
deliberate he was as he took his coffee from the tray, and with what an
incorrigible air he jerked his thumb towards the staircase. I can still
hear him call up the staircase in a magisterial voice, "The ladies are
in the study, Parker." When we were alone he fell into meditation.

It was apparently as the result of meditation that he said, "I suppose it
is a bit crude, if you come to think of it. Only why couldn't she say so
at the time?"

I said I supposed she was afraid of hurting his