“A profession,” said John, “which appeals above all to the senses, and lives on the emotions, and fosters jealousy and vanity and backbiting, and develops duplicity, and exists on lies, and does nothing to encourage self-sacrifice or to help suffering humanity, is a bad profession and a sinful one!” “If a profession is sinful,” said Drake, “in proportion as it appeals to the senses, and lives on the emotions, and develops duplicity, then the profession of the Church is the most sinful in the world, for it offers the greatest temptations to lying, and produces the worst hypocrites and impostors!” “That,” said John, with eyes flashing and passion vibrating in his voice--“that, sir, is the great Liar's everlasting lie--and you know it!” Glory was between them with uplifted hands. “Peace, peace! Blessed is the peacemaker! But tea! Will nobody take more tea? Oh, dear! oh, dear! Why can't we have tea over again?” “I know what you mean, sir,” said Drake. “You mean that I have brought Glory back to a life of danger and vanity, and sloth and sensuality. Very well. I deny your definition. But call it what you will, I have brought her back to the only life her talents are fit for, and if that's all----” “Would you have done the same for your own sister?” “How dare you introduce my sister's name in this connection?” “And how dare you resent it? What's good for one woman is good for another.” Glory was turning aside, and Drake was looking ashamed. “Of course--naturally--all I meant,” he faltered--“if a girl has to earn her living, whatever her talents, her genius--that is one thing. But the upper classes, I mean the leisured classes----” “Damn the leisured classes, sir!” said John, and in the silence that followed the men looked round, but Glory was gone from the room. Lord Robert, who had been whistling at the window, said to Drake in a cynical undertone: “The man is hipped and sore. He has lost his challenge, and we ought to make allowances for him, don't you know.” Drake tried to laugh. “I'm willing to make allowances,” he said lightly; “but when a man talks to me as if--as if I meant to----” but the light tone broke down, and he faced round upon John and burst out passionately: “What right have you to talk to me like this? What is there in my character, in my life, that justifies it? What woman's honour have I betrayed? What have I done that is unworthy of the character of an English gentleman?” John took a stride forward and came face to face and eye to eye with him. “What have you done?” he said. “You have used a woman as your decoy to win your challenge, as you say, and you have struck me in the face with the hand of the woman I love! That's what you've done, sir, and if it's worthy of the character of an English gentleman, then God help England!”