"I believe it. She hates me not because I am myself, but simply because I am your closest friend. Hush, Julian. It's much better all this should be said once for all. Many women are intensely jealous of the men friends of men whom they either love, or who they mean shall love them. Look at the wives who drive their husbands' old chums from intimacy into the outer darkness of acquaintanceship. Wedding-days break, as well as bind, faith. And you have had your wedding-day with Cuckoo." "That was an accident. She loathes to think of it." "She may say so. But it puts a fine edge on her hatred of me, nevertheless." "No, Valentine, no. Her dislike of you is simply silly--instinctive." "She tells you so. Ah! I was wrong to call her nothing. But it is her hatred of me that must bring us to battle unless--" "Unless what?" "You give her up now, once and for all." "Give Cuckoo up!" The words came slowly, and the voice that uttered them sounded startled and even shocked. Valentine began to gauge the new power of the lady of the feathers from that moment. "That's a--a strong thing to do, Val." "It won't hurt you to do a strong thing for once in your life." "Even if it didn't hurt me I think it would hurt her very much. For, Valentine, I believe you said the truth when you said to me once, 'That girl loves you.' Do you remember?" "Perfectly. Loves you, your birth, your position, your money, your good looks, perhaps your standpoint above the gutter. I can well believe that Miss Bright, like all her sisterhood, loves with undying love that combination of flesh-pots, her notion of the ego of a man." "She has never accepted a halfpenny from me." "Because she means eventually to have twenty-one shillings in the pound. Have some more champagne." "Yes. You are wrong, Val, utterly wrong. Cuckoo's not mercenary. If such a girl could be good, she is good." There was just a touch of the maudlin in Julian's voice. He went on very earnestly, and nodding his head emphatically over even his conjunctions. "And if she were what you say, she would have no influence over me, and I should hate her. But to me she is just what a good girl might be. Why, even the doctor--" "Was he there to-night?" Valentine cried, with a sudden inspiration. "Of course he was. And you know what a particular little chap he is." "Why was he there?" "Just to see Cuckoo, you know, in a friendly way." Valentine realized then that the battle had begun. He divined the meaning of the doctor's visit. He guessed what it had done for the lady of the feathers. And he sat silent while Julian went on drinking more champagne. "I believe he likes Cuckoo, Val. I am sure he does. And he behaved quite as if--quite as if he--you know--respected her. And it's all nonsense her hating you, and having a battle, and all that kind of thing, with you. She's only fanciful. She's not--" "Would you give her up if I asked you to? Mind, Julian, I don't say I ever shall ask you. But if I do?"