She looked at him with eyes still newly mirthful. He had dismissed Beaufort Chance and Mervyn contemptuously enough; one had sought to barter where no barter should be; the other had lost his prize because he did not know how to value it. But when Airey spoke of Fricker's wrongs, there was real and convinced indignation in his voice; in Fricker's interest he did not spare the woman he loved. 'How funny!' she said. 'I've never felt very guilty about Mr. Fricker.' 'You ought to. That was worst of all, in my opinion,' he insisted. 'Well, I was afraid you'd quite acquitted me! Should you be always throwing Mr. Fricker in my face?' 'On occasions probably. I can't resist a good argumentative point. You've got the safe and the red book, you know.' 'I'd sooner die than remind you of them.' 'Nonsense! I sha'n't care in the least,' said Airey. 'Then what will be the good of them to me?' He laughed. But she grew serious, saying, 'I shall care about Mr. Fricker, though.' 'Then don't ask me what I think again.' He laughed, took a turn the length of the room, and came quickly and suddenly back to her. 'Well, is the unforgivable forgiven?' he asked, standing opposite to her. 'The unforgivable? What do you mean?' she said, with a little start of surprise. He had struck sharply across her current of thought. 'What you couldn't have forgiven Tommy, or Peggy, or anybody? What you couldn't possibly forgive me? You know.' His smile mocked her. 'My having sent the money to Fricker.' 'Oh, I'd forgotten all about it!' 'Things forgotten are things forgiven--and the other way round too. Forgiving, but not forgetting--don't you recognise the twang of hard-hearted righteousness?' He came up to her. 'It was very unforgivable--and you forgot it! Haven't you stumbled on the right principle, Trix?' She did not rise to any philosophic or general principle. She followed her feeling and gave it expression--or a hint of expression, her eyes being left to fill in the context. 'Somehow it's not so bad, coming from you,' she said. In an instant he was sitting by her. 'Now I'll tell you what we did this afternoon.' 'You and Peggy Ryle? I'm jealous of Peggy Ryle!' 'A sound instinct, in this case misapplied,' commented Airey. 'Now just you listen.' The sound of song had ceased. Were all sounds equally able to penetrate doors and cross passages, quite another would have struck on Trix's ears. Peggy was yawning vigorously--while Tommy was trying to find patience in a cigar. 'Where had you been going to dine?' asked Peggy, referring to the meal as a bright but bygone possibility. 'I had been going to have a chop at the club,' murmured Tommy sadly. 'That doesn't help me much,' observed Peggy. 'And I suppose you're going to begin about that wretched promise again? I'm tired to death, but I'll sing again if you do.' 'I've expressed my sentiments. I don't want to rub it in.' 'If Airey hadn't come, you'd have done just the same yourself.' 'No, I shouldn't, Peggy.'