"And do you call playing cards into the small hours and shattering your nerves--not to speak of losing your money--enjoyment? I really am surprised, Mr. Arkel, that a man like you, especially when you know your constitution won't stand much, should behave so foolishly. It isn't as if you hadn't sufficient means----" Gerald shook his head. "Sufficient means?--that's just it. I know nothing about my means. For the present, yes, my uncle allows me--well, I suppose really you would call it a sufficiency. But in the future? I am all in the dark. He may make me his heir--on the other hand he may not. You know how eccentric he is. He may leave me without a penny. He's quite capable of it. That's really why I gamble, so that I can put by something and be independent of his whims." "You should be independent of anyone's whims, certainly. But hardly by gambling. In any case, you must know it is a fool's game waiting for dead men's shoes, Mr. Arkel. Why don't you work and make your own fortune--you have a great deal in your favour?" "Oh, come now," interrupted Gerald, "that's pretty rough on me. I've never been brought up to work. 'Pon my soul, I shouldn't know how to go about it. Besides, why should I, when there's no absolute need?" "For one very good reason if for no other. You must not be offended with what I'm going to say--but you're one of those men who are not fitted to be their own master. Whilst you are idle you are bound to get into mischief. Work--right-down hard work would be the salvation of you." "Well, upon my word--I suppose you would have me grub away in some beastly office all day!" "Well, better an honest grub than a--yes, I'll say it--than a dishonest butterfly. You know quite well what I mean." He flushed, sat up, and faced her. "Miss Crane, I thought you liked me!" It was Miriam's turn to flush now, and it was a very crimson face that looked at him. "I do like you, Mr. Arkel," she said, "otherwise I should not be speaking to you like this. I want to be able to think well of you." "You don't think well of me then?" "No, I do not. I don't see how you can expect me to. How can I think well of a man who is content to occupy a position such as yours? You accept money from--indeed you are content to be wholly dependent upon a man whom you know you dislike, and you tolerate his whims simply that you may step into the shoes which you are waiting for him to vacate. You cannot hold that it is an honourable employment, Mr. Arkel."