"What you say is quite true----" "That my memory has gone with age?" demanded the old lady acidly. "No! No! No! But your recollection of what I said about my former----" "Love-affairs!" interpolated Mrs. Perage, who declined to be suppressed. "No! No! No!" cried Hench again and earnestly. "I never was in love until I met Gwen. I told you so. But I did say that I admired another girl." "You didn't say that you had proposed to her," said Mrs. Perage grimly. "No, I didn't, because----" "Because you loved her." "I didn't!" cried Owain, thoroughly exasperated by these constant interruptions. "As I have already stated, I didn't know the meaning of the word love until I met with Gwen." "Then why did you propose to this Zara creature? One doesn't propose unless love has something to do with the matter." "Has your experience of life only taught you that much, Mrs. Perage? A man proposes for the sake of money." "Was this Zara creature rich?" "No. She was very poor." "Then you didn't propose to her on that account. Come"--Mrs. Perage spoke in her roughest manner--"don't waste my time. _Why_ did you propose?" "Because I was a lonely man and wanted a home and a comrade. I had been wandering all over the world by myself, and found life dismal in the extreme. I didn't love Zara Alpenny one little bit. But I admired her as a thoroughly good woman----" "Oh"--Mrs. Perage rubbed her nose--"she was a good woman, was she?" "A thoroughly good woman," repeated Hench, again emphasizing his remark. "And when I asked her to be my wife, she told me that I didn't love her, but only wanted a home, adding that she loved some one else. I recognized the truth of her statement with regard to my own feelings, and therefore I went away from Bethnal Green. I still respect her, Mrs. Perage, and if I can forward her marriage with the man of her choice in any way, I will do so. After all, Madame Alpenny wants a rich son-in-law, and I am wealthy enough to smooth matters over in that way for Ned Bracken." "Who is he?" "The man Zara loves. And that you may know the worst, let me tell you that she is a dancer at a Bethnal Green music-hall." "Hum!" said Mrs. Perage, smiling grimly. "And by mentioning her profession and position you think that I will have a bad opinion of her. Fudge! I have met with dancers much better as regards morals than many a woman received at Court. Don't be a fool and think you are talking to an inexperienced girl." "Well, I did talk to an inexperienced girl," said Hench rather bitterly, "and she has turned on me." "Why not? You gave her no explanation." "How could I, when she ran away while I was speaking? I couldn't follow quickly enough, as my foot is yet weak." "Your ankle, you mean--be careful in your speech." Mrs. Perage rubbed her nose again and her eyes grew calmer. "I'll have a cup of tea if you will have the decency to give me one."