He shook his head. "I have no curiosity! For a long time now the idea of my marriage has ceased to be a novelty, and I have contemplated it mentally in every possible light. I fear nothing from that side, but I do fear something from conscience. I want my hands tied. Will you do me a favour? Pick up the letter, put it into your pocket, and keep it till I ask you for it. When I do, you may know that I am at my rope's end." I took the letter, smiling. "And how long is your rope to be? The Homburg season doesn't last for ever." "Does it last a month? Let that be my season! A month hence you will give it back to me." "To-morrow if you say so. Meanwhile, let it rest in peace!" And I consigned it to the most sacred interstice of my pocket-book. To say that I was disposed to humour the poor fellow would seem to be saying that I thought his request fantastic. It was his situation, by no fault of his own, that was fantastic, and he was only trying to be natural. He watched me put away the letter, and when it had disappeared gave a soft sigh of relief. The sigh was natural, and yet it set me thinking. His general recoil from an immediate responsibility imposed by others might be wholesome enough; but if there was an old grievance on one side, was there not possibly a new-born delusion on the other? It would be unkind to withhold a reflection that might serve as a warning; so I told him, abruptly, that I had been an undiscovered spectator, the night before, of his exploits at roulette. He blushed deeply, but he met my eyes with the same clear good-humour. "Ah, then, you saw that wonderful lady?" "Wonderful she was indeed. I saw her afterwards, too, sitting on the terrace in the starlight. I imagine she was not alone." "No, indeed, I was with her--for nearly an hour. Then I walked home with her." "Ah! And did you go in?" "No, she said it was too late to ask me; though she remarked that in a general way she did not stand upon ceremony." "She did herself injustice. When it came to losing your money for you, she made you insist." "Ah, you noticed that too?" cried Pickering, still quite unconfused. "I felt as if the whole table were staring at me; but her manner was so gracious and reassuring that I supposed she was doing nothing unusual. She confessed, however, afterwards, that she is very eccentric. The world began to call her so, she said, before she ever dreamed of it, and at last finding that she had the reputation, in spite of herself, she resolved to enjoy its privileges. Now, she does what she chooses." "In other words, she is a lady with no reputation to lose!" Pickering seemed puzzled; he smiled a little. "Is not that what you say of bad women?" "Of some--of those who are found out." "Well," he said, still smiling, "I have not yet found out Madame Blumenthal." "If that's her name, I suppose she's German."