"No, of course he doesn't, or--or you wouldn't be here," he said after a pause. Then he fell into thought again. "And if he did know, he'd never ask you for the money," she said. Caylesham made a wry little grimace. That might be true of John, but he would hesitate to say the same about every fellow. Christine, however, did not see the grimace. "And you don't want me to lend it--not though it means all this to John?" "I don't want you to lend it, whatever it means. Pray don't lend it, Frank!" "Is that---- Well, I don't quite know how to put it. I mean, is that on John's account or on your own?" "I can't give you reasons; I can't put them in words. It's just terribly hateful to me." He was puzzled by the point of view, and still more by finding it in her. Perhaps the last six years had made a difference in her way of looking at things; they had made none in his. "And if I do as you wish, what are you going to say to John? Are you going to say to him that in the end you told me not to lend the money?" "Of course not. I shall say that you said you couldn't; you'll have to give me the reasons." He looked discontented. "It'll look rather shabby," he suggested. "Oh, no! It's a large sum. It would be quite likely that it wouldn't be convenient to you." "Is he expecting to get it?" "I don't think that has anything to do with it. I suppose--well, drowning men catch at straws." She smiled dolefully. The phrase was unlucky for her purpose. It stirred Caylesham's pity. "Poor old John!" he murmured again. "What'll he do if he doesn't get it?" "I don't know--I told you I didn't know." He was puzzled still. He could not get down to the root of her objection; and she could not, or would not, put it plainly to him. She could not express the aspect of the affair that was, as she said, so terribly hateful to her. But it was there. All she had given she had given long ago--given freely long ago. Now was she not asking a price for it--and a price which her husband was to share? Only on that ground really was she there. For now the man loved her no more; there was no glamour and no screen. After all these years she came back and asked a price--a price John was to share. But the case did not strike Caylesham at all like this. John suspected nothing, or John would not have sent his wife there. John had been a very good friend, he would like to do John a good turn. In his case the very circumstances which so revolted Christine made him more inclined to do John a good turn. Although he could not pretend that the affair had ever made him uncomfortable, still its existence in the past helped John's cause with him now. "You're not a very trustworthy ambassador," he said, smiling. "I don't think you're playing fair with John, you know." "Why, do you--you--expect me to?" she asked bitterly. He shrugged his shoulders in a discreet evasion, seeing the threatened opening of a discussion of a sort always painful and useless.