“Well,” he replied, “every enterprise is a risk of sorts, isn’t it? To take a chance is always amusing. Nothing flatters like picking a winner on one’s own best judgment. You’re what Broadway calls ‘sure fire.’ It doesn’t take much courage to lay odds on you, Eris.” She nodded, her colour still high: “Yes, I suppose Mr. Smull looks at it that way. It really is a matter of business, of course.... But he is very kind to me.” “If it were anything except a matter of business it would scarcely do, would it?” asked Annan carelessly. “I don’t think I understand. Please tell me.” “I mean--it’s quite all right for a man to bet on a girl if he believes her professionally capable. That’s finance--of one sort. That’s a business investment.” “What other sort of investment is there?” she asked. “Will you tell me?” “The other sort is to finance an enterprise out of--friendship. That’s not legitimate--on either side.... And even when it’s sheer business it’s a ticklish one.” She remained absorbed for a while in her own reflections. Then, idling over her strawberries and orange ice: “Do you think that a girl really has no right to accept such heavy responsibility as is now mine?” she inquired. “I’m thinking about your obligations--burdensome in success, crushing in failure.... Because you are the kind of girl who will so consider them.” “What kind of girl do you mean?” “Conscientious.” “Of course.” “But too sensitive, too generous, too easily overwhelmed by a sense of obligations--mostly imaginary.” She continued with her reflections and her strawberries. Finally coffee was served; he lighted a cigarette. Eris had not yet commented upon his final proposition. “It really depends on the man,” he remarked, “how difficult or how easy a girl’s position is to be. It’s always certain to be difficult if the deal be merely a speculation in friendship and not in business.” She tasted her coffee: “Yes, it might be--perplexing,” she said. “You see the possibility of confusion?--gratitude worrying about what is expected of it; dread of reproach for benefits forgot--the mask to choose and wear in the lively hope of benefits to come--no; speculation in friendship is never legitimate gambling. It’s bad business, bad sportsmanship.” She considered this over her coffee, her serious eyes intent on the flecks of foam in her cup, with which she played with her little silver spoon. “Do you think,” she said slowly, “that Mr. Smull is taking a legitimate chance in financing my company?” “You’re a perfectly legitimate risk. I told you so. You’re sure fire.” She looked up: “Do you think that was Mr. Smull’s motive?” “I don’t know, Eris.” After a pause: “You don’t like him, do you?” “Not much.” “Will you tell me why?” “I’m not quite sure why.... Do you like him, Eris?” “I’d be ashamed not to.” “Because he’s kind?” “Yes.” “That’s why you say you like me,” observed Annan, smiling. She smiled, too, rather vaguely.