“Well, it’s not the moment to advertise it. Forsyth knows that as well as I do. Of course, he’s out to pull me out of the muck, but I’m not takin’ any. Either I get out myself, or I stay where I am. _I won’t have you called._ More. Unless you give me your word not only to hold your tongue but not to come within a mile of the Joy Shop till it’s all over, I’ll—I’ll plead ‘Guilty.’” Forsyth shifted in his chair. Lady Elizabeth raised her delicate eyebrows. “Well, there you are,” she said. “If you will cut your own little throat, I can’t stop you. Only, I can’t marry a man who’s been convicted of drunkenness.” Pembury leaped to his feet. “I can’t, really. You see, I’m funny like that. It’s—it’s against my principles.” “Dot!” shouted Pembury. “Dot! What on earth d’you mean? You’re engaged to——” “Finish, my dear, finish. I’ve turned him down. You’ll see it in _The Times_ on Monday. I just couldn’t stick the swine. If we could have lived apart, I might have managed it. But together—no thanks. Charing opened my eyes. I was happy enough there, until he came. Then everything crashed. Better is a cold tub, where love is, than a tiled bathroom and hatred therewith. Don’t you agree, Mr. Forsyth?” “Dot! Dot, my darling, is this a have?” Pembury had her hands and was gazing into her eyes. The man was transfigured, blazing. “No,” said Elizabeth. “It isn’t. It’s ordinary, natural love. Don’t go, Mr. Forsyth. I’ld rather like you to stay. I say it’s ordinary love. I’ve loved you for years, Dick. But when you never spoke, at last I came to the conclusion that you didn’t care for me—that way. And so—I turned elsewhere. Not to another man, because there was no other man and never could be. So I turned to money, instead. I told you I was degenerate. . . . And then, when on Sunday night you showed your hand—the hand you’d never played, the hand I’d been waiting for you to play for such a long, long time—I didn’t know what to do. You see, things had gone rather far. . . . And then—Sir Hilton Shutter very kindly showed me the way.” A door closed. Forsyth had disobeyed. “But, Dot, my darling, we’ll be awfully poor.” “D’you think I care? I only worshipped riches because I hadn’t got you. Luxury was the god I set up in your place. I tried to drown my love in a butt of Malmsey. But, you see, it couldn’t be done. Malmsey’s sickening stuff. I’ld much sooner drink beer. And now about this old trial. I’m to be in attendance, in case——” “Oh, damn the trial,” said Pembury, taking her in his arms. “I haven’t kissed your blessed mouth since——” “August the seventh, 1914,” said Elizabeth. “I’ve got it down in a diary. ‘He kissed my lips.’” “My sweet, my sweet. . . .” The girl just clung to him. After a moment or two she lifted a radiant face. “I think I shall have to marry you, whether you’re convicted or not. You see, you’re not only my Best Man—you’re so much the very best man I ever saw.” * * * * *