And he, with the good-natured surrender of a young sultan, suffered her to caress his shoulders and knees, suffered her to kiss him and stroke his hair, suffered her arm around his neck, accepting it all as a tribute due to him, accustomed as he was to that feminine tribute of love, he who had been fondled and caressed from the time when he was a little, chubby boy, from the time when he was carried by Tidjem, his babu, who was in love with him, from the time when he used to romp, in his little pyjamas, with little sisters and cousins, all of whom were in love with him. All this tribute he accepted good-naturedly, though secretly surprised and shocked by what Léonie had done.... And yet, he argued, it would perhaps anyhow have happened of itself, some day, because Doddie was so fond of him. He would rather have remained unmarried: though unmarried, he nevertheless had all the home life at Patjaram that he wanted and retained his liberty to bestow abundant love upon women, in his good-natured way. And he was already ingenuously reflecting that it would not do, that it would never do to remain faithful to Doddie long, because he was really too good-natured and the women were all so crazy. Doddie must get used to it later on, must learn to accept it; and, he reflected, after all, in Solo, in the palace, it was the same thing, with his uncles and cousins.... Had Van Oudijck believed what Léonie said? He himself did not know whether he did or not. Doddie had accused Léonie of being in love with Addie; Theo, that morning, when Van Oudijck asked him where Léonie was, had answered, curtly: "At Mrs. van Does' ... with Addie." He had glared at his son, but asked no further questions; he had merely driven straight to Mrs. van Does' house. And he had actually found his wife with young de Luce, found him on his knees before her; but she had said so quietly: "Adrian de Luce is asking me for your daughter's hand."