“When the conscience makes to interfere in a matter of love,” said Arlette, “it means either that one is not in love at all or that one is jealous. Love, messieurs, is its own conscience.” “Madeleine said you were jealous last night. Two experts agree.... Jealous! Um!...” “I’m not jealous, you gibbering idiot. I—It’s just that I thought Andree was something and find she’s not.... It’s the whole idea over here. I thought it was right—and it’s rotten. I was losing my balance. I thought wrong could be right.” “It never can be when the other fellow does it,” said Bert, with more acuteness than usual. “Then you’re not worrying about marrying Andree? And you have discovered that you’re being very wicked, and so you’re in the dumps, and you’re figuring on calling the whole thing off and living a noble and austere life. Huh!... What happened last night? You can’t fool your uncle. You got a letter from home, and then something happened. What was it?” “I saw Andree with that actor.” “_Mon Dieu!_” exclaimed Arlette, and she passed off, as though frightened, to her kitchen. “You saw them together? Where?” “In a café?” “Yes—go on.” “That’s all.” “And you—Oh, say—all this cat-fit is because you saw Andree in a café with another man! Get out!” “With that particular man. You know what Jacques said about him.... You know Andree wants to get into the _Conservatoire_ and on the stage. I introduced them—” “More fool you,” said Bert, succinctly. “It was plain enough. She could use him. She needed his influence—so—Oh, what’s the use? I don’t want to talk about it.” Bert thought that Ken’s view was altogether likely. And why not? But he conceived it to be his duty to argue against it in his friend’s interest. “Just a case of plain, or garden, jealousy. Nothing to it. You see them together in a café and jump to conclusions. Didn’t hang around to see where they went?” “Certainly not.” “Made up your mind with a snap—and then, because you were jealous, and it looked as if your nose was out of joint, you hollered sour grapes. In a second it all got to be immoral and naughty—and you’re worked up to a state of mind.... If this actor had never come along, and if Andree had loved you alone and all that, would it have been wrong?... Of course not, and you know it.” Ken did not reply, but he had an uncomfortable feeling that Bert was right. “You’d better give her a chance to explain—or did you burst in on the party and rear and tear all over the place?” “They never knew I saw them.” “Then, old son, you’d better let Andree tell you about it. Madeleine says she loves you and Arlette says she loves you—and, believe me, they’re experts.” “If she loves me, and then would do such a thing, it’s all the worse.... I’ll never see her again.” “Well, if your mind’s made up, there’s the end of the whole thing. Get up and eat and forget it.... The river’s full of fish.”