Now, as throughout the evening, their instincts swayed them one way, their reason another. Each misunderstood the motives of the other; and, what with this misunderstanding and the economic insecurity of their circumstances, the scales were tipped in favor of discretion. Besides, Janet mistrusted her impulses far more than formerly. True, Robert mistrusted his far less. In spite of his better judgment, he was succumbing to her ensnaring voice and eyes, was surrendering to an intense longing to tempt her into a betrayal, an unambiguous betrayal, of her real feelings. But he proceeded in a manner too inadequate. "I’m no clearer about your plans than before," he said, awkwardly. "You haven’t really taken me into your confidence." "About Monsieur St. Hilaire?" "Yes." A marked pause. She did not interrupt it. Discouraged, he lamely continued: "Still, I’m glad you’ve changed your point of view about men and women. It’s something to find out that marriage, like adversity, has its uses." "Robert, what I’ve found out is that marriage, like honesty, may be the best policy. I’ve learned that woman cannot live by principle alone." "I protest I never urged it." "No. And if it’s the least satisfaction to you, I’ll admit that I don’t intend to repeat any of my Kips Bay experiments—free love, outlawry, and so on—you know the sort of thing. Why should I? There are few moments in the old Lorillard tenement life that I regret; yet there are none that I’d live over again." "None?" "Not one. Wait. There is a single moment—it just occurs to me—it was so like this one—" "Like this one?" "Yes, ’when my heart was a free and a fetterless thing, a wave—’" The line was completed without words, Robert, swept away by her enchantment, having seized heir in his arms and kissed her. "Don’t marry Monsieur St. Hilaire," he said, beseeching rather than commanding her, "whatever you do." She disengaged herself almost brutally, and went up the stairs. Pausing a few steps up, she turned and, in a tone supremely dispassionate, said: "Whatever I do! Well, whatever I do, I can’t marry a poor man, can I?" *CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT* *I* Hoping to have a few words alone with Harry Kelly, Robert went down to breakfast early. But if he expected to learn anything further in regard to Janet or M. St. Hilaire, he was disappointed. Extracting teeth would have been easier than pumping Harry who, besides being more taciturn than ever, had developed a vein of pessimism quite out of keeping with his material prosperity. Robert was actually relieved when the appearance of Mazie Ross at the breakfast table put an end to his efforts to draw Kelly out. "Her Ladyship was sweetly singing ’My Rosary’ when I passed her bedroom door," said Mazie, alluding to Cornelia. "Things’ll be humming in the Maison Paulette this morning, if I know the Indian sign."