He pulled his hat over his eyes and blundered out of the shop. René cried to him to stay. “Fernand! Fernand!” Lacaze took no notice. Ten minutes later he was clear of the town. KATHARINE KATHARINE Dreamily, Mrs. Festival regarded the ceiling. “I frequently wonder,” she said, “what possessed me to marry you.” “My beauty of soul,” said her husband pleasantly. “You were all dazzled.” “I think,” continued his wife, “it was out of pity. You know. When you see people laughing at someone, and the someone joins in, never dreaming that they’re the object of the mirth, one feels sorry for them.” Captain Giles Festival swallowed before replying. Then— “I know,” he said. “Like when we were dining with the Mascots, and you kept talking about soap.” Katharine Festival flushed. The reminiscence was not one which she cherished. Lady Mascot’s father and soft soap had been mutually constructive. At length— “I might have known,” she observed, “that you wouldn’t appreciate it. Gratitude is not among your attributes.” “If you mean,” said Giles, “that I don’t feel impelled to fall down and worship you for taking my name—in vain, you’re perfectly right. I gave you a blinkin’ good chance, and you blinkin’ well took it.” Katharine drew in her breath. “Do you imagine,” she demanded, “that the chance you were kind enough to give me was the only chance I had?” “If,” said her husband, “I imagined anything, I should imagine you considered it the best. If one can only have one strawberry, one doesn’t deliberately take a bad one, does one? Not even out of pity?” “No,” said Katharine sweetly. “Only by mistake.” There was a pregnant silence. Then— “Sold,” murmured Giles, “the very deuce of a pup—by Mistake, out of Pity. No flowers, by request.” “Let me at once admit,” said Katharine coldly, “that I did not select you for your good taste.” “‘Select’?” cried her husband. “‘Select’?” He laughed wildly. Then he covered his eyes. “Oh, give me strength.” “I suppose you consider that you selected me.” “I did. In a weak moment——” “Are you,” said Katharine shakily, “are you going to say you were blind?” “I am not,” said Giles. “I was not blind. I was—well—er—just nicely.” “Well, I wasn’t,” said his wife hotly. “I was blind. I thought I was accepting a gentleman. I find I accepted a——” “I know,” said Giles mercilessly. “I know, teacher. A foul and loathsome worm.” “No,” said his wife calmly. “Just an ordinary cad.” Captain Festival rubbed his nose thoughtfully. Then he extended his arms and, after yawning luxuriously, interlaced his fingers and placed his hands behind his head. “My dear,” he observed, “be reasonable.” Katharine closed her eyes with an expression of unutterable contempt. “All this, just because I ventured to suggest that, if Beatrice had time to do it, she might take charge of my linen.”