With what seemed pleased amusement beaming on his face, Dick turned to Paula as if to ask her silent approval of the lad's words; but what Dick sought was the effect of the impact of such words under the circumstances he apprehended. In Paula's eyes he thought he detected a flicker of something he knew not what. Graham's face he found expressionless insofar as there was no apparent change of the expression of interest that had been there. "Woman has certainly found her St. George tonight," Graham complimented. "Leo, you shame me. Here I sit quietly by while you fight three dragons." "And such dragons," Paula joined in. "If they drove O'Hay to drink, what will they do to you, Leo?" "No knight of love can ever be discomfited by all the dragons in the world," Dick said. "And the best of it, Leo, is in this case the dragons are more right than you think, and you are more right than they just the same." "Here's a dragon that's a good dragon, Leo, lad," Terrence spoke up. "This dragon is going to desert his disreputable companions and come over on your side and be a Saint Terrence. And this Saint Terrence has a lovely question to ask you." "Let this dragon roar first," Hancock interposed. "Leo, by all in love that is sweet and lovely, I ask you: why do lovers, out of jealousy, so often kill the woman they love?" "Because they are hurt, because they are insane," came the answer, "and because they have been unfortunate enough to love a woman so low in type that she could be guilty of making them jealous." "But, Leo, love will stray," Dick prompted. "You must give a more sufficient answer." "True for Dick," Terrence supplemented. "And it's helping you I am to the full stroke of your sword. Love will stray among the highest types, and when it does in steps the green-eyed monster. Suppose the most perfect woman you can imagine should cease to love the man who does not beat her and come to love another man who loves her and will not beat her--what then? All highest types, mind you. Now up with your sword and slash into the dragons." "The first man will not kill her nor injure her in any way," Leo asserted stoutly. "Because if he did he would not be the man you describe. He would not be high type, but low type." "You mean, he would get out of the way?" Dick asked, at the same time busying himself with a cigarette so that he might glance at no one's face. Leo nodded gravely. "He would get out of the way, and he would make the way easy for her, and he would be very gentle with her." "Let us bring the argument right home," Hancock said. "We'll suppose you're in love with Mrs. Forrest, and Mrs. Forrest is in love with you, and you run away together in the big limousine--" "Oh, but I wouldn't," the boy blurted out, his cheeks burning. "Leo, you are not complimentary," Paula encouraged. "It's just supposing, Leo," Hancock urged. The boy's embarrassment was pitiful, and his voice quivered, but he turned bravely to Dick and said: