"No--I mean it. I don't want to seem unkind, but your temperament and my husband's are as wide apart as the poles." He opened wide his eyes as he asked, "In what particular, _s'il vous plait_?" "Kenneth is frank, outspoken. He is not the type of man who takes rash risks. He is very conservative, scrupulously honest. He has fine ideals. While you----" He laughed loudly. "I? I am secretive, cunning, reckless, materialistic--is that it, madam?" "I did not say so, but since you draw your portrait so well----" He bit his lip. This girl with the flaxen hair and large lustrous eyes was more than a match for him in a battle of wits. He was making no headway at all. It was time to play his trump card. Softly he said: "You said your husband was judicious, conservative----" "So he is." "That is a matter of opinion. Some might think otherwise. Of course, it is difficult for a woman when she is blinded by love----" "What do you mean?" "I mean that your husband is far from being the conservative, afraid-to-take-risks type of man you picture him. You women think you know your husbands. You know only such part of them as they themselves care to reveal. Perhaps if you knew to what extent your husband was involved in Wall Street, it would surprise you! Oh, everything is perfectly regular, of course. As treasurer of the Americo-African Mining Company, he has at his disposal large sums of money. He is also trustee of several large and valuable estates. All of this money he is supposed to invest--conservatively. He certainly invests it. Whether conservatively or not, I leave others to judge." "Do you mean that he is using other people's money in Wall Street?" "I mean, my dear lady, that he has the get-rich-quick fever. He has a rage for stock gambling--he is already heavily involved. I have often warned him to go slower, to be more prudent, but he won't heed my counsel. You know, he is very headstrong--your husband. As long as everything goes well he is all right. If anything goes wrong, he might find himself in an unpleasant predicament. Hasn't he spoken to you of these matters? Why should he worry you? It is as I told you. Husbands don't tell their wives everything--God forbid!" Helen raised her hand. There was the ring of scorn in her voice as she exclaimed: "Don't blaspheme, Signor Keralio. It sounds incongruous to hear the name of the Almighty on the lips of a man of your opinions and tastes. You think you live, but you don't. You go through life, seeking only to gratify your appetites, attracted only by material sensual pleasures. You ignore the best part of life--the pursuit of an ideal, a noble ambition, unselfishness, self-sacrifice. Really, Signor, I pity you--with all my heart." He made no answer, but sat in silence watching her. Presently he said: "Mrs. Traynor--do you know that you are an extraordinary woman?" "In what way?" she demanded, elevating her eyebrows in surprise.