"Then why won't you admit that you are sorry for her? Why won't you be a little just to her?" She looked at me sharply. "Do you know her?" "Not by a long shot," I replied hastily, and with considerable truthfulness. "Why are you so keen to have me take sides with her?" "Because I did, the instant I saw that infernal cad." She pursed her lips. It was hard for her to surrender. "Out with it, Elsie," I commanded. "You know you've been wrong about that poor little girl. I can tell by the look in your eyes that you have switched over completely in the last four days, and so has Betty Billy." "I can't forgive her for marrying him in the first place," she said stubbornly. "But I think she was justified in leaving him. As I know him now, I don't see how she endured it as long as she did. Yes, I am sorry for her. She is a dear girl and she has had a--a--" "I'll say it, my dear: a hell of a time." "Thank you." "And I daresay you now think she did right in taking the child, too," I persisted. "I--I hope she gets safely away with little Rosemary, back to God's country as we are prone to call it. Oh, by the way, John, I don't see why I should feel bound to keep that wretch's secret any longer. He has treated us like dogs. He doesn't deserve--" "Hold on! You're not thinking of telling me his name, are you?" "Don't you want to know it? Don't you care to hear that you've been entertaining the most talked of, the most interesting--" "No, I don't!" "Don't you care to hear who it was that he married and how many millions he got from--" "No, I don't." "And why not?" "Well," said I, judicially, "in the first place I like the mystery of it all. In the second place, I don't want to know anything more about this fellow than I already know. He is enough of a horror to me, as it is, God knows, without giving a name to him. I prefer to think of him as Mr. Pless. If you don't mind, Elsie, I'll try to eradicate him thoroughly from my system as Pless before I take him on in any other form of evil. No, I don't want to know his name at present, nor do I care a hang who it was he married. Silly notion, I suppose, but I mean what I say." She looked at me in wonder for a moment and then shook her head as if considering me quite hopeless. "You are an odd thing, John. God left something out when He fashioned you. I'm just dying to tell you all about them, and you won't let me." "Is she pretty?" I asked, yielding a little.