Having reached a stage of mental development at which virginity seemed an unjustifiable defiance of manhood, he delighted in the marriage of any woman he had known unmarried. He was satisfied by it as numberless people, who had no interest in legislation or in the constitution, were satisfied when the House of Lords had its wings clipped. He never refused an invitation to a wedding unless it was that of a widow. Margaret was a girl the prospect of whose taming particularly pleased him. “You mark my words,” he said. “She may jib the first time. But you stick to it--it won’t last long. If she tries to stand out, she’s got no one to talk to, not a soul to plot her little rebellion with. Ye soon get fed with rebellin’ alone. The girl don’t stand a chance.” “Very pleasantly put to the prospective husband.... Incidentally, the father isn’t a brute.” “How d’ye mean? Surely he’s fixed? You said he was fixed.” “He might conceivably unfix. He can’t exert pressure beyond a certain point. What’s more, Aggett, I don’t want him to.” “Now that’s generous of ye, that is--not ‘beyond a certain point.’ God! Ordith, old man, that’s you all over. But don’t ye see that there’s no goin’ back for Fane-Herbert now? It ain’t jus’ a pers’nal question. He’s got Ibble’s behind him.” Ordith nodded. He reflected that he himself might have conducted this affair differently if Ordith’s had not been behind him.... And yet--well, it was no damned good to sentimentalize now. He called for more drink as a set-off to Aggett’s frequent generosity, settled himself in his chair, and, banishing misgiving as only the greatly successful men of this world can banish misgiving, allowed Aggett to talk. Aggett liked to generalize on this his favourite subject. His aids to the imagination and the care he took that his friend’s glass should not long remain empty produced in Ordith a brightening of the eyes and a certain fixity of smile. From the state of mind of which these were the outward signs Aggett drew vicarious pleasure. He explained, with careful avoidance of personalities which Ordith might have resented, his theory of the advantages to be obtained by impetuous attack upon girls of the difficult kind. “No good hummin’ and hawin’ from t’other end of the room. They can hum and haw better than any of us. ‘Engage the enemy more closely.’ That’s the signal. I always have a feelin’ with the villain in the story-books. I like the breakin’ of these proud young things.” Never a word of Margaret herself. Ordith was scarcely listening now, but, as the speaker intended, his thoughts followed Aggett’s, though with change of phrase and manner--followed them through the succeeding talk until at last he rose to go. “Go an’ prosper, sonny,” Aggett said; “an’ Ibble an’ Ordith’s and all thy gods go with thee.”