"I thought you told me he was a working-man?" said the lady to her husband. "I hoped he would come in his working-clothes. This fellow is immaculate!" "He's a fine figure of a man, anyhow," said the Cabinet Minister. "The most striking-looking man in the room!" was the lady's answer. And then her attention and smiles were given to the next comers. Paul was not long left alone, and quickly found himself quite a centre of interest. More than one Member of Parliament brought his lady friends to see the new star. Indeed, he was so much monopolised that for a time he had little opportunity to take notice of the guests as a whole. By and by, however, he managed to get away by himself, and to take the part of a spectator. It was all very strange to him, this gay throng--and he was not very favourably impressed. If this was Society, he did not want it! Everyone seemed blase and satiated with pleasure. The conversation was clever, but superficial. It seemed to him as though almost everyone lacked earnestness--lacked reality. "I am glad you are interesting!" said one lady to him during the evening. Paul had been with her some time, and had given expression to some very unconventional opinions. "The greatest sin I know of is to be dull, and you can't be dull." "No?" said Paul. "I think I'm a fairly good actor." "No, you have a good deal of the devil in you, and I like a man of your sort. Do you know I saw a criticism of a book the other day of which you remind me?" "And of course you've read the book?" "Oh no! The critique said that the only bad book was the book which was badly written, no matter what its morals might be, and this book, although excellently intentioned, was not well written. You know I have a similar feeling about men. The greatest crime in the calendar is to be dull. Men may break all the other commandments if they like, but he who breaks that is impossible. And I find you so interesting!" "And I feel myself so dull," said Paul. "I don't follow your simile a bit." "Ah, but you're not conventional. The great charm of a man is that he's always going off the beaten tracks. When he gets back to those he is impossible! Do you know, I hoped you would come in your working-clothes. Our hostess told me you were coming, and I quite looked forward to seeing you." "My working-clothes are very shabby," said Paul. "Still, if I had thought you wanted to see them, I would have brought them." The lady laughed good-humouredly. "Oh, but do remain unconventional!" she said. "Don't become a polished Society man. If you are to be interesting, always keep off the beaten tracks." "Even at the expense of politeness?" said Paul. The lady looked at him quizzically. "Yes, even at the expense of politeness." "Then I'll run away. There's someone over here I want to speak to," he said.