And she smiled at Somers as she cuddled her husband’s arm. “If my hostess says I’m nice,” said Somers, “I am not going to feel guilty, whatever my _wife_ may say.” “Oh yes, you do feel guilty,” said Harriet. “Your hostess doesn’t find any fault with you at all,” cried Victoria. She was looking very pretty, in a brown chiffon dress. “She thinks you’re the nicest of anybody here, there.” “What?” cried Jack. “When I’m here as well?” “Whether you’re here or not. You’re not very nice to me to-night, and William James never is. But Mr Somers is _awfully_ nice.” She blushed suddenly quite vividly, looking under her long lashes at him. He smiled a little more intensely to himself. “I tell you what, Mrs Somers,” said Jack. “We’d better make a swap of it, till they alter their opinion. You and me had better strike up a match, and let them two elope with one another for a bit.” “And what about William James?” cried Victoria, with hurried, vivid excitement. “Oh nobody need trouble themselves about William James,” replied that individual. “It’s about time he was rolling home.” “No,” said Harriet, in answer to Jack. “I’m striking off no more matches, thank you. The game’s not worth the candle.” “Why, maybe you’ve only struck on the rough side, you know,” said Jack. “You might strike on the smooth next time.” “No,” said Harriet. “I’m going to bed, and leave you all to your striking and your bad tempers. Good-night!” She rose roughly. Victoria jumped up to accompany her to her room. The Somers had had a room each in Torestin, so Victoria had put them each separately into a nice little room in her house. “Is it right,” said Jack, “that you got the wind up to-night?” “No,” said Somers. “At least we only quite lovingly agreed to differ. Nothing else.” “I thought it would be like that,” said Jack. “He thinks the world of you, I can see that.” William James stood ready to leave. He looked at Somers cunningly, as if reading into him with his light-grey, sceptical eyes. “Mr Somers doesn’t care to commit himself so easily,” he said. “No,” said Jack. “You blighters from the old country are so mighty careful of risking yourselves. That’s what I’m not. When I feel a thing I jump up and go for it, and damn the consequences. There’s always plenty of time to think about a thing after you’ve done it. And then if you’re fool enough to wish you hadn’t done it, why, that shows you _shouldn’t_ have. I don’t go in for regrets, myself. I do what I want. And if I wanted to do a thing, then it’s _all right_ when it’s done. All a man’s got to do is to keep his mouth shut and his fist ready, and go down on his knees to _nothing_. Then he can damn well do as he pleases. And all he asks is that other folks shall do as they please, men or women. Damn all this careful stunt. I’ll step along as far as the tram with you, Jaz, I feel like walking the Welsh rabbit down into his burrow. Vicky prefers Mr Somers to me _pro tem._--and I don’t begrudge it her. Why should I?”