"There are times when one stops to think." He raised his head and looked at Clodagh, sitting erect and pale, her large eyes wide open, her hands clasped in her lap. "There are times when it seems cruel--when it seems a sacrilege to see a girl going down the easy road of lost illusions and callous sentiments. I know this sounds incomprehensible--sounds impertinent. But I cannot help myself. I must tell you what no one else will tell you. I must put out my hand." He paused, but Clodagh did not speak. "You are very young, you are very high-spirited, you--you are very attractive. And the world is full of people ready--waiting--to take advantage of your youth, your high spirits, your attractiveness. You are not fit for this society--for this set that you have drifted into----" "This set? Isn't it your own set?" At last Clodagh's lips parted. He made an impatient gesture. "A man has many sets." Her pale face flushed suddenly. "I don't think I understand," she said. "No. But I am trying to make you understand. I am not disparaging Lady Frances Hope--or her social standing. She is a charming woman--a clever woman, but she is a woman of to-day. Her pleasures, her ambitions, her friends----" Clodagh lifted her head. "--Her friends?" she said faintly. "--Are not the friends for you--for any inexperienced girl. Take them one by one. There is Serracauld--indolent, worthless, vicious; Barnard--decent enough as a man's friend, and as honest as his clients permit him to be, but no proper guide for a girl like you; Deerehurst----" But Clodagh checked him. "Lord Deerehurst? What about Lord Deerehurst?" Her voice was high and strained. Gore made a gesture of contempt. "Deerehurst----" he began hotly; then suddenly his tone changed. "Mrs. Milbanke," he said earnestly, "whatever you may say, whatever you may do, I cannot believe that in your heart you are in sympathy with these people, whose one object in life is to gamble--to gamble with honour, money, emotion--anything, everything that has the savour of risk and the possibility of gain. "You have no justification for belonging to these people. You have the good things of life, the things many women are forced to steal--position, a home, a good husband----" At the last word Clodagh started violently. And with a quick impulsive movement, Gore turned to her afresh. "You are intoxicated with life--or what seems to you to be life! You are forgetting realities. I have seen your husband. He is an honest, simple, trustworthy man--who loves you."