"And she has been--all that you said, to you?" "Yes." His voice was a little dreary. "Yes--all that." She sat tight-lipped, trying to feel more angry than she did, ("Be very angry" was item two on the agenda). "I'm sorry that you had to know, you are so young and these things are very shocking to a good woman. Lola has gone back to her people. Naturally, I did not wish to appear in a police court, but there was a conspiracy to send this girl to prison. A late friend of mine was in it. I had to go to the court and tell the truth." "I think it was very fine of you," she echoed Christina's words, but was wanting in Christina's enthusiasm. "Fine? I don't know. It was a great nuisance. I have an unpleasant feeling about courts." He rubbed his chin; Evie saw nothing remarkable in the gesture. "Of course, Ronnie," she began, laboring under the disadvantage of calmness, for she could not feel angry, "this makes a difference. I was prepared to sacrifice everything--my good name and what people thought about me--it was horrible of you, Ronnie--to take that girl into the country when--when you knew me. I can't forgive that, Ronnie." He stood by his table, his white hand drumming silently. "Did you come alone?" he asked. She hesitated. "No, I brought a friend. A gentleman. I used to know him when I was a child." Ronnie looked at her searchingly. His eyes were soft and kind. "Evie, I will tell you something. From the day I first met you I intended no good to you. When I arranged that we should go to Italy, to Palermo, I knew in my wicked mind that you would grow tired of me." He put it that way, though he was loath to tell even so small a lie. "Since--since I saw you last, I have been thinking of you, thinking very tenderly of you, Evie. I have always liked you; Christina and I have discussed you by the hour--" "But you have never seen Christina until this week, Ronnie!" Ronnie's hand went to his chin. "Haven't I?" He was troubled. "I thought--let me say I have dreamed of these discussions. I dream a great deal nowadays. Queer ugly dreams. I woke this morning when the clock was striking nine--I felt so sad." He seemed to forget her presence, for he did not speak for a time. He had seated himself on the edge of the desk, one polished boot swinging, and he was looking past her with an intensity of gaze that made her turn to see the thing that attracted him. Her movement roused him, and he stammered his apologies. Taking courage from his confusion, Evie delivered herself of the predication which she had not had the courage to rehearse. "Ronnie, I think we've both made a great mistake. I like you awfully. I don't think I could like a friend more. But I don't feel--well, you can see for yourself that we're not the same way of thinking. Don't imagine I'm a prude. I'm very broad-minded about that sort of thing, but you can see for yourself--" He saw very clearly for himself and held out his hand.