"Pat, don't be a fool!" Arthur whipped out, though the look he gave me, which he tried to disguise, was not a friendly one. "Fool is hardly the word," I said. "Kindly explain yourself, Moore, and forget that you are my guest if you like--I don't mind." The huge man trembled. Then he turned away with a sort of snarl, snatched his handkerchief from his cuff and mopped his face. I sat down and lit a cigarette. "Can you explain this, Arthur?" I asked. He sat down too, and began to tap with his shoe upon the carpet. "Oh, I don't know," he said sullenly. "You were the only man in the room, Kirby, to whom she gave more than one dance." "That's as may be. I suppose you don't propose to expostulate with the lady herself? And, by the way, I always thought that it wasn't exactly form to discuss these things in the way you appear to have been doing." That got Arthur on the mark. His face grew very white and he sat perfectly still. Then Pat heaved himself round. "She's not for you, at any rate," he said. "They will marry her to a duke or one of the Princes." Suddenly the humor of all this struck me forcibly and I lay back in my chair and burst into a peal of laughter. "That's quite likely," I said, "though I don't think, what I have seen of Mr. Morse, that he is likely to have ambitions that way, and I am quite certain that Miss Morse will marry the man she wants to marry and no one else, whether he is a thoroughbred or hairy at the heels. I think all this talk on your part--remember you began it, Pat--is perfectly disgraceful, to say nothing of its utter childishness. As for your saying that a young lady whom I have met for the first time to-night and danced with twice, is not for me, it's a damnable piece of impertinence that you should dare to insinuate that I look upon her in the way you suggest." I jumped up from my seat and knew that I was dominating them all right. "Supposing what you say is true, I admit that my chance isn't worth two penn'orth o' cold gin, though it's every bit as good, and probably better, than yours, all things considered. You are certainly a fine figure of a man." I was furious, mad, keen to provoke him to an outburst. The calculated insult was patent enough. I thought he was about to go for me, and I stood ready, when "What about me?" came in a dry crackling voice from Arthur. "Oh, I should put you and me about level," I said, "with the courtesy title as a little extra weight. It is a pity you should be the second son." "Damn you, Kirby!" he burst out, blazing with anger. I lifted up my hand and looked at both of them.