“I mean to say, my dear chap, that you mustn’t marry the Duchess of Breakwater. Look at most of these European marriages. They all go to smash. She is older than you are and she has lived her life. You are much too young.” “Hold up, Galorey; you mustn’t go on, you know. You know I am engaged; that’s all there is about it. Now, let’s go and have a game of pool.” Galorey had not worked himself up to this pitch to break off now at a fatal point. “I’m responsible for this, and by gad, Dan, I’m going to put you on your guard.” “You are responsible for nothing, Galorey, and I warn you to drop it.” “You would listen to your father if he were here, wouldn’t you?” “I don’t know,” said the boy slowly. Then followed up with an honest, “Yes, I would.” Gordon caught eagerly, “Well, he sent you to me. Your friend Ruggles has gone off and washed his hands of you, but I can’t.” Lord Galorey walked across the room briskly and came back to Dan. “First of all, you are not in love with Lily—not a bit of it. You couldn’t be—and what’s more she is not in love with you.” Blair laughed coolly. “You certainly have got things down to a fine point, Gordon. I’ll be hanged if I understand your game.” Galorey went bravely on: “Therefore, if neither of you are in love, you understand that there is nothing between you but your money.” The Englishman got his point out brutally, relieved that the impersonal thing money opened a way for him. He didn’t want to be the bounder and the cad that the mention of the woman would have made him. The boy drew in an angry breath. “Gosh,” he said, “that cursed money will make me crazy yet! You are not very flattering to me, Gordon, I swear, and Lily wouldn’t thank you for the motives you impute to her.” “Oh, rot!” returned Gordon more tranquilly. “She hasn’t got a human sentiment in her. She’s a rock with a woman’s face.” Dan turned his back on his host and walked off into the billiard-room. Galorey promptly followed him, took down a cue and chalked it, and said: “Well, come now; let’s put it to the test.” Blair began stacking the balls. “How do you mean?” “Well, when you have had time to get your first news over from Ruggles, tell her you have gone to smash and that you are a pauper.” “I don’t play tricks like that,” said the Westerner quietly. “No,” responded Galorey bitterly, “you let others play tricks on you.” The young man threw his cue smartly down, his youth looked contemptuously at the worldly man, and he turned pale, but he said in a low voice: “Now, you’ve got to let up on this, Gordon; I thought at first you had been drinking. I won’t listen. Let’s get on another subject, or I’ll clear out.”