Kit knew what happened when people started on anecdotes of their pets. He ruthlessly interrupted Antony. “Yes, I know; that’s the way I feel about dogs,” he said. He turned and knocked his cigar ashes over the end of the car, carefully, as if the trolley platform were carpeted. “But you know, Antony,” Kit continued the conversation with his own end in view, “a lot of people seem to think it’s all poppycock to look for things like that in humans. People, experienced people, you know, whose opinion ought to count, tell you it’s sentimental to insist on--well, on marrying for love, you know. They say take a nice girl, a suitable girl, one that isn’t going to get on your nerves, of course, and marry for expediency. They say that this kind of an arranged partnership holds out better than the kind that is not arranged, that flies, so to speak, a winged thing from the start. What do you say about it? You’re married to the nicest sort of a girl; of course you fell in love with her; any one would love Joan Berkley, but you’ve got sense, and by this time you must have perception of what various sorts of marriages could be. What do you say? Do you think it’s better to go in for romance? All decent young chaps have a leaning toward it, I think.” Antony looked at Kit sharply. “As a rule, Christopher, my son, you are not given to abstract speculation. What’s up? Or don’t you care to tell me?” he said. “I wouldn’t mind, only it’s currish to talk, you know,” said Kit. “Aunt Anne has ideas about me which I don’t share; that’s about the sum of it. She urges me to ambition, and she thinks marriage would land me at the top of the heap. The top of the heap is all right, but I can’t see her road to reach it.” Antony and Joan had discussed Helen Abercrombie when she had made her previous visit to Cleavedge. It required no great perspicacity to see that Miss Carrington desired her for Kit. If Helen Abercrombie were the sort of girl that Kit wanted, that would be his business, but it seemed to this youthful pair of Kit’s friends that Helen was not for him. Now, as Antony looked at Kit, he saw that Helen was decidedly not the girl that Kit wanted. He said: