"Quite by chance. I was walking in Mill Street, Knightsbridge, and saw her pass in a victoria." Maine got up suddenly, and went over to the spirit-stand. "In Mill Street?" he said. "Yes. The carriage stopped at No. 100. She went in. A footman came out and carried in her rug. _Ergo_, she lives there." "How hot it is!" said Maine in a hard voice. He threw up one of the windows and leaned out. He felt as if he were choking. A little way down the street a half-tipsy guardsman was reeling along, singing his own private version of "Tommy Atkins." He narrowly avoided a lamp-post by an abrupt lurch which took him into the gutter. Maine heard some one laugh. It was himself. "Well, old chap," said Manning, who had come up behind him, "what would you advise me to do? I'm in a fix. I'm in love with Eve--that's her name; I can't live without her happily, and yet I hate to marry a woman with a--well, you know how it is." Maine drew himself back into the room and faced round. "Does she love you?" he asked; and there was a curious change in his manner towards his friend. "I don't know that she does," Manning said, rather uncomfortably. "But that would come right. She would marry me, naturally." "Why?" "Well, I mean the position. Lady Herbert Manning could go where Mrs Glinn could not, and all that sort of thing." "The only question is whether you can bring yourself to ask her?" "My dear chap, you don't put it too pleasantly." "It's the fact, though." Lord Herbert hesitated. Then he said dubiously, "I suppose so." Maine lit another cigar and sat down again. His face was very white. "You're rather conventional, Manning," he said presently. "Conventional! Why?" "You think her--this Mrs Glinn--a good woman. Isn't that enough for you?" "But, besides Eve and myself, there is a third person in the situation." "How on earth did you find out that?" exclaimed Maine. The other looked surprised. "How did I find out? I don't understand you." Maine recollected himself. He had made the common mistake of fancying another might know a thing because he knew it. "Who is this third person?" he asked. "Society." "Ah! I said you were conventional." "Every sensible man and woman is." "I don't know that I agree. But the third person does certainly complicate the situation. What are you going to do then?" Lord Herbert put down his pipe. It was not smoked out. "That's what I want to know," he answered. "Of course, there's the one way--of being unconventional. Then, there's the way of being conventional but unhappy. Is there any alternative?" Lord Herbert hesitated obviously, but at length he said: "There is, of course; but Mrs Glinn is a curious sort of woman. I don't quite know--" He paused, looking at his friend. Maine's face was drawn and fierce. "What's the row?" Lord Herbert asked. "Nothing; only I shouldn't advise you to try the alternative. That's all." "Maine, what do you mean?"