Amory had more than half expected him to take that attitude. Since Cosimo had had his hair cut he was still to be counted as "one of them," one of the enlightened ones; but, like Samson, he had lost perhaps a little of his strength in the process of shearing. He still saw the light, but sometimes it dazzled him a little--that was another reason why he needed an unflinching pair of eyes always by his side. Now his grimness was almost the ordinary conventional thing. The male behaved like that in most novels and in all theatres. Taken properly in hand, Cosimo would not be very difficult to manage. "Need we go into it?" said Amory quietly. There was withering disdain of her traducers in the single glance she shot at him. "I think we've got to," Cosimo replied, with the same slightly histrionic quietness. "I really think we'd better, don't you know." "As regards myself, I don't consider it worth it," Amory replied proudly. "I know you don't," the still strong man pursued doggedly. "That's because you're so high-minded and scornful and wonderful. You're so high above it all that really it's difficult for you to understand. But I think I'll make this my business, if you don't mind. Please tell me." "Don't you think that by touching pitch you'd only be defiling yourself?" "It isn't a question of me. It's you. I really think you'd better tell me." "But what could you do?" "Leave that to me. If it's a man who's been talking----" Cosimo left the sentence significantly unfinished. "Is it a man?" "I don't know. Dorothy wouldn't tell me." Cosimo half rose. "Oh, she wouldn't, wouldn't she? Perhaps she'll tell me, though! Will she have left that place of hers if I take a cab?" Amory put up her hand rather quickly. "Oh, Cosimo, do treat it with the contempt it deserves! You'd get nothing out of Dorothy. You know how obstinate she can be." "Well, tell me what she said; then I'll consider whether I'll go or not." "No, Cosimo, I'd rather not." "But you must!" At that Amory once more broke passionately out. She hit at the sofa cushion with her tiny white fist. "Oh, it's--I _know_ I've not deserved it! That ought to be enough for me, and I do try to look at it in that light, but I'm not always so high-minded as you think, Cosimo, and it does hurt when they spring a thing like that on you without warning! And the way she did it!... Listen. I didn't mean to tell you, but _she_ seems to have been talking _me_ over, and there does come a point when the truth has to be told! I went up when she was having her lunch; she was having it with somebody or other, I forget his name; and--Cosimo--but I'm sure I needn't tell you----" "Not----?" The golden eyes and the black-coffee brown ones were crossed as it were like swords for a moment, as if either had started into an attitude of defence against some monstrous meaning--the meaning that, Dorothy had said, was always between them. "Yes," Amory sighed as if in disgust. Cosimo stared, frowning.