eople and might have to explain to
them just where last night had been passed. But now that she mentioned a
father, it seemed to Anthony that he could see a mighty man, a man of
wrath and muscle and perhaps a man who could slay with one blow and--oh,
there was no other way!

All his life, Anthony had shied from woman. All these last twenty-five
years he had thanked his lucky stars that one of them had never snared
him! He had been alone, to live as he pleased and act as he pleased and
think as he pleased; married men do not do that, as witness Johnson
Boller, ensnared by Beatrice, a decent enough young woman but his ruler.

Yes, up to the age of forty-five he had been alone and contented, year
in and year out, indulging every little foible without a soul to
question, going as he liked and coming as he liked.

But that was over now! That was over and done with, forever! Anthony
Fry, with a tiny groan, looked up from his plate and faced Mary.

"Young woman," said he deeply, solemnly enough to cause Johnson Boller
to stop quaking and take to staring, "I have avoided women all my life."

"Yes?" Mary said.

"I have done so," Anthony went on steadily, marching to the gallows as a
brave man should, with never a falter once he was started, "because to
my--possibly eccentric--mind, matrimony has no attractions. The bachelor
state, I fondly imagined, was to be my chosen state until death."

Mary looked him over rather too critically, examining the wrinkles at
the corners of his eyes and considering the extreme width of his part.

"That was a good enough idea," she said heartily. "What has it to do
with getting me out of here?"

"It has a great deal to do with it, as you will see," Anthony said, with
a great, quivering sigh. "For the fact of your presence I alone will
take the blame."

"Thanks," said Mary.

"And since the blame is mine, I will make what amends I can," Anthony
Fry concluded, and nerved though he was, his voice broke. "I will
consent to marry you!"

"Huh?" cried John Boller.

Mary, for the moment, said nothing at all. The intake of her breath was
audible, though, and her color rose--not in embarrassment, plainly in
anger. Mary's eyes snapped, too, and she leaned a little toward him
questioningly, as if incredulous of her own hearing.

"You'll do _what_?" said Mary.

"I will consent to marry you!" Anthony repeated, and it seemed to him
that his voice was coming hollowly and from a great distance, pr