I was taken aback, for I had received no word of her coming; I had been led not to expect her for four or five weeks. Octon's eye caught mine. "Changed her mind and come back sooner? Well, I did just the same myself." By themselves the words were nothing. In connection with our little duel--backed by the man's broad smile and the forceful assertion of his personality--they amounted to a yet plainer boast--"I've come--and I thought she would." That is too plain for speech--even for Octon's ill-restrained tongue--but not too plain for his bearing. But then I doubted whether his bearing were toward facts or merely toward me--were proof of force or effort after effect. "Clearly Miss Chatters can't keep away from you!" I said. "Clearly we're going to have a more amusing time than we'd been hoping," he answered and, with a casual and abrupt "Good-by," turned on his heel, taking out another great cigar as he went. Perhaps we were--if amusing should prove to be the right word about it. So ran my instinct--with no express reason to be given for it. Why should not Jenny come home? Why should Octon's coming have anything to do with it? In truth I was affected, I was half dominated for the moment, by his confidence and his force. I had taken the impression he wanted to give--just as he accused me of taking the impression that Jenny sought to give. So I told myself consolingly. But I could not help remembering that in those countries which he frequented, where he got his insects and very probably his ideas, men were said as often to win or lose--to live or die--by the impression they imparted to friends, foes, and rivals as by the actual deeds they did. I could not judge how far that was true--but that or something like it was surely what they called prestige? If a man created prestige, you did not even try to oppose him. Nay, you hastened to range yourself on his side--and your real little power went to swell his asserted big power--his power big in assertion but in fact, as against the present foe, still unproved. Had the prestige been brought to bear on Chat--so that she was wholly his? Was it being brandished before my eyes, to gain me also--for what I was worth? After all, it was flattering of him to think that I mattered. I mattered so very little. If he were minded to impress, if he were ready to fight, his display and his battle must be against another foe--or--if the evidence of that talk at the Flower Show went for anything--against several. If an attack on Breysgate Priory were really in his mind, he would find no ally--outside its walls. CHAPTER V RAPIER AND CLUB