"By the law came sin----" quoted Stephen Aikenhead. "He only meant the Jewish law. Man, ye're hopeless." Dennehy tousled his hair. The February afternoon was mild; Stephen was a fanatic about open air, if about nothing else. The four sat on the lawn at Shaylor's Patch, well wrapped up--Stephen, Tora, and Dennehy in rough country wraps, Winnie in a stately sealskin coat, the gift of Mrs. Lenoir. She had taken to dressing Winnie, in spite of half-hearted remonstrances and with notable results. "But the deuce is," Stephen continued--this time on his own account and, therefore, less authoritatively--"that when you take away the law, the sin doesn't go too." Winnie's story was by now known to these three good friends. Already it was being discussed more as a problem than as a tragedy. Some excuse might be found in Winnie's air and manner. She was in fine looks and good spirits, interested and alert, distinctly resilient against the blows of fortune and the miscarriage of theoretical experiments. So much time and change had done for her. "And it seems just as true of any other laws, even if he did mean the Jewish, Dick," Stephen ended. "Don't lots of husbands, tied up just as tight as anything or anybody can tie them, cut loose and run away just the same?" asked Tora. "And wives," added Winnie--who had done it, and had a right to speak. "It's like the old dispute about the franchise and the agricultural labourer. I remember my father telling me about it somewhere in the eighties--when I was quite a small boy. One side said the labourer oughtn't to have the vote till he was fit for it, the other said he'd never be fit for it till he had it." "Oh, well, that's to some extent like the woman question," Tora remarked. "Are we to change the law first or people first? Hope a better law will make better people, or tell the people they can't have a better law till they're better themselves?" "Stephen, you've a glimmer of sense in you this afternoon." "Well, Dick, we don't want to end by merely making things easier for brutes and curs--male or female." "I think you're a little wanting in the broad view to-day, Stephen. You're too much affected by Winnie's particular case. Isn't it better to get rid of brutes and curs anyhow? The quicker and easier, the better." Tora was, as usual, uncompromising. "Everybody seems to put a good point. That's the puzzle," said Stephen, who was obviously enjoying the puzzle very much. "Oh, ye're not even logical to-day, Tora," Dennehy complained, "which I will admit you sometimes are, according to your wrong-headed principles. Ye call the man a brute or a cur, and this and that--oh, ye meant Godfrey! What's the man done that he hadn't a right to do on your own showing? His manners were bad, maybe."