_Ashley_, without noting her protest: "I had forgotten that I had a corkscrew in my pocket-knife. Don't trouble yourself to ring for one." He produces the knife and opens the bottle; then, as Miss Ramsey rises and stands aghast, he pours out a glass and offers it to her, with mock devotion. As she shakes her head and recoils: "Oh! I thought you liked cocktails. They are very good after cigarettes--very reviving. But if you won't--" He tosses off the cocktail and sets down the glass, smacking his lips. "Tell your brother I commend his taste--in cocktails and"--puffing his cigarette--"tobacco. Poison for poison, let me offer you one of _my_ cigarettes. They're milder than these." He puts his hand to his breast pocket. _Miss Ramsey_, with nervous shrinking: "No--" _Ashley_: "It's just as well. I find that I hadn't brought mine with me." After a moment: "You are so unconventional, so fearless, that I should like your notion of the problem in a book I've just been reading. Why should the mere fact that a man is married to one woman prevent his being in love with another, or half a dozen others; or _vice versa_?" _Miss Ramsey_: "Mr. Ashley, do you wish to insult me?" _Ashley_: "Dear me, no! But put the case a little differently. Suppose a couple are merely engaged. Does that fact imply that neither has a right to a change of mind, or to be fancy free to make another choice?" _Miss Ramsey_, indignantly: "Yes, it does. They are as sacredly bound to each other as if they were married, and if they are false to each other the girl is a wretch, and the man is a villain! And if you think anything I have said can excuse you for breaking your engagement, or that I don't consider you the wickedest person in the world, and the most barefaced hypocrite, and--and--I don't know what--you are very much mistaken." _Ashley_: "What in the world are you talking about?" _Miss Ramsey_: "I am talking about you and your shameless perfidy." _Ashley_: "My shameless perf-- I don't understand! I came here to tell you that I love you--"