y in Compton."

"Progress--advance--going on irresistibly all the time, whether we see
it, feel it, or not. How glorious!"

"You are always an optimist?"

"I do believe in the triumph of good. More and more every day I believe
in that, the triumph of good in the world, and in the individual. And
the more believers there are--true believers--in that triumph, the more
surely, the more swiftly, it will be accomplished. You can help,
Isaacson."

"By believing?"

"Yes, that's the way to help. But Lord! how few people take it!
Suspicion is one of the most destructive agents at work in the world.
Suspect a man, and you almost force him to give you cause for suspicion.
Suspect a woman, and instantly you give her a push towards deceit. How I
hate to hear men say they don't trust women."

"Women say that, too."

"Sex treachery! Despicable! They who say that are traitresses in their
own camp."

"You value truth, don't you?"

"Above everything."

"Suppose women truly mistrust other women; are they to pretend the
contrary?"

"They can be silent, and try to stamp out an unworthy, a destructive,
feeling."

He said nothing for a moment. Then he looked up at Meyer Isaacson and
continued:

"Are you going anywhere when you leave here?"

"I've accepted something in Chesham Place. Why?"

"Must you go to it?"

"No."

"Come and have supper with me at the Savoy."

"Supper! My dear Armine! You know nowadays we doctors are preaching, and
rightly preaching, less eating and drinking to our patients. I can eat
nothing till to-morrow after my morning ride."

"But you can sit at a supper-table, I suppose?"

"Oh, yes, I can do that."

"Come and sit at mine. Let's go away from here together."

"Certainly."

"You shall see whether I am out of place at the Savoy."

IV

At a quarter to eleven that night Meyer Isaacson and Nigel Armine came
down the bit of carpet that was unrolled to the edge of the pavement in
front of Lady Somerson's door, and got into the former's electric
brougham. As it moved off noiselessly, the Doctor said:

"You had a long talk with Mrs. Derringham in the drawing-room."

"Yes," replied Armine, rather curtly.

He relapsed into silence, leaning back in his corner.

"I like her," the Doctor continued, after a pause.

"Do you?"

"And you--don't."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I feel it; I gather it from the way you said 'yes.'"

Armine moved, and leaned slightly forwards.