Deeming seemed startled by the sudden change of topic, and when we went into the hall to smoke he tried to return to the discussion. But Vernon did not rise to the bait he threw out, and at last frankly said— “You’d much better not get me on to the subject of animals. I am really a bore when I let myself loose, as I did at dinner. And I am quite sure you”—and he met Deeming’s eyes—“don’t agree with my views. Are you staying long in Rome?” “Till I feel quite set up again and ready for work.” “Then I’ll hope you’ll come and see me.” He gave his card to Deeming, and soon after went away. I felt sure he had asked Deeming to call in order to please me. My two friends, I feared, had not taken a fancy to each other. One curious thing struck me as I watched Vernon’s tall figure going out through the doorway to the street. It was this—that I knew a side of Vernon’s, and a side of Deeming’s character that had been hitherto completely concealed from me. Each had elicited a frankness from the other that I, of whom they were fond, had not been able to bring forth. Their two enmities—so I thought of it—had clashed together and struck out sparks of truth. By the way, Vernon’s last remark to me in the outer hall of the hotel, whither I had accompanied him, leaving Deeming in the winter-garden, was this— “I shouldn’t care to be Deeming’s black spaniel.” II A day or two afterwards Deeming said to me, “I’m going to call on your friend Vernon this afternoon. When is he likely to be in?” “He’s generally at home between six and seven,” I said. After a moment I added, “You want to find him then?” “Why—yes. He’s a very agreeable fellow. Did you think I disliked him?” “Disliked him—no, hardly that. But, somehow, I scarcely fancied you two were quite in sympathy the other night.” “Oh, you mean that animal-versus-human-being discussion. Now it is just because of that I want to meet him again.” “To win him over to your views?” “Well, I confess that I should like to get him to see how harmful such a man as his friend Gernham is or may become to the world—of men understood. He’s probably got all kinds of absurd notions as to how vivisection is carried on. I should like to have a quiet, reasonable talk with him.” “Go to-day, then, at six. You’re almost sure to find him.” “I will.” And Deeming set his lips together with determination. I was, I confess, a little curious as to the result of the interview. I heard something about it the same evening from Vernon, who sent round a note asking me to dine with him alone. “Your friend Deeming has been here,” he said, almost directly I was in the house. “I know. Did you have a pleasant time?” “He’s extremely intelligent—got a great deal of character, real force. That ruthless mouth and chin of his tell the truth.”