“How unpatriotic!” said Bob cynically. Really, the monocle-man did it very well. He was a fine imitation. “Aw!” he said once more. And then Bob began to play with him. Dear old dad who was somewhat of a bibliomaniac had, on one or two of Bob’s vacation trips to London, introduced the lad to many quaint, out-of-the-way nooks and corners. Now Bob drew on the source of information thus gleaned and angled with his one-eye-glassed neighbor. But the monocle-man fenced beautifully; he knew more than Bob. And when the latter had exhausted himself, the monocle-man, with a few twinkles behind his staring window-pane, played with Bob. He showed him as a mere child for ignorance of the subject, and drawled so brilliantly that some of the others became interested, though professing not to see that Bob was there. When the monocle-man had finished, Bob felt abashed. He gazed upon the other with new and wondrous respect. He had attempted the infantile and amateurish game of unmasking the other—of exhibiting his crass ignorance and letting the others draw their own conclusions—and he had been literally overwhelmed in his efforts. Having shown Bob the futility of trying to play with him, the monocle-man again offered Bob the marmalade. His manner of doing it made Bob think of a jailer who believed in the humane treatment of prisoners and who liked to see them well-fed. Bob for the second time refused the marmalade and did it most emphatically. Whereupon the monocle-man smiled. At that moment Bob met the gaze of the temperamental young thing. There were dark rings under her eyes and she looked paler than he had ever seen her. Also, there was a certain fascinated wonder, not unmixed with some deeper feeling, in her expression. She was, no doubt, absolutely astounded to see Bob there, and talking with the monocle-man. Bob surmised she would be waiting for him somewhere later to express herself, and he was not mistaken. Bob got up. As he did so, he glanced at the monocle-man. Would he be permitted to go, or would the denouement now happen? Would the other, alas, arise? He did nothing of the kind. He let Bob have a little more line. He even suffered him to walk away, at the same time smiling once more at vacancy or the rack of toast. Of course the temperamental young thing hailed Bob shortly after he was out of the room. He expected that. She came hurrying up to him, excitement and terror in her eyes. “Flee!” she whispered. “I won’t do it,” answered Bob sturdily. “Why did you come back?” Agitatedly, “What a rash thing to do! Like walking into the lions’ den.” “Well, the principal lion was nice and polite, anyhow.” “Could you not see he was only just”—she sought for a word—“dallying with you?” “He made me see that,” Bob confessed rather gloomily. “He made me feel like thirty cents. I guess he’s got my goat. And to think I thought him a blamed fool. I tell you I’m learning something these days; I’m taking a course they don’t have in college, all right.”