Stabb blinked lazily, and seemed to loom enormous over his cigar. “I daresay--if she’s got a good case,” said he. “Do you know, Wilbraham, I don’t much care whether she does or not? But in regard to her complexion----” “What the devil does her complexion matter?” shouted Wilbraham. “The human side of a thing always matters,” observed Leonard Stabb. “For instance--pray sit down, Wilbraham--standing up and talking loud prove nothing, if people would only believe it--the permanence of hierarchical systems may be historically observed to bear a direct relation to the emoluments.” “Would you mind telling me your opinion on two points, Stabb? We can go on with that argument of yours afterwards.” “Say on, Wilbraham.” “Is Lynborough in his right senses?” “The point is doubtful.” “Are you in yours?” Stabb reflected. “I am sane--but very highly specialised,” was his conclusion. Wilbraham wrinkled his brow. “All the same, right of way or no right of way is purely a legal question,” he persisted. “I think you’re highly specialised too,” said Stabb. “But you’d better keep quiet and see it through, you know. There may be some fun--it will serve to amuse the Archdeacon when you write.” Wilbraham’s father was a highly-esteemed dignitary of the order mentioned. Lynborough came out again, smoking a cigar. His manner was noticeably more alert: his brow was unclouded, his whole mien tranquil and placid. “I’ve put it all right,” he observed. “I’ve written her a civil letter. Will you men bathe to-morrow?” They both assented to the proposition. “Very well. We’ll start at eight. We may as well walk. By Beach Path it’s only about half-a-mile.” “But the path’s stopped, Ambrose,” Stabb objected. “I’ve asked her to have the obstruction removed before eight o’clock,” Lynborough explained. “If it isn’t?” asked Roger Wilbraham. “We have hands,” answered Lynborough, looking at his own very small ones. “Wilbraham wants to know why you don’t go to law, Ambrose.” Lord Lynborough never shrank from explaining his views and convictions. “The law disgusts me. So does my experience of it. You remember the beer, Cromlech? Nobody ever acted more wisely or from better motives. And if I made money--as I did, till the customers left off coming--why not? I was unobtrusively doing good. Then Juanita’s affair! I acted as a gentleman is bound to act. Result--a year’s imprisonment! I lay stress on these personal experiences, but not too great stress. The law, Roger, always considers what you have had and what you now have--never what you ought to have. Take that path! It happens to be a fact that my grandfather, and my father, and I have always used that path. That’s important by law, I daresay----” “Certainly, Lord Lynborough.”