"That's a fact," confessed the other, "but you insist so emphatically that women have no moral sense that your philosophy certainly would dispose of them if it allow any future state." "For my part," declared Herman, "I've heard Fenton talk nonsense as long as I want to; let's look at the pictures." An informal exhibition had been arranged, consisting of pictures loaned by friends, and including several by members of the club. The most important of the latter was a gypsy which Bently had just completed, and which exhibited that artist's defects and excellences in the emphatic manner usual with his productions. The _motif_ was better than the _technique_, but Bently's splendid feeling for color somehow carried him through, and made the picture not only striking but rich and suggestive. "If you could learn to draw, Tom," Fenton said, as they stood looking at it, "you'd be the biggest man in America." "Is that the new model you were talking about?" asked Rangely. "Yes," Bently answered. "Isn't she a stunner?" "I thought that shoulder was something new," put in Fenton. "The girl poses well; trust a woman with shoulders like that to know how to display them." "Good heavens!" exclaimed Grant Herman in sudden and rare irritation, "can you never have done slurring at women? Didn't you have a mother? In heaven's name let some woman escape your tongue for her sake!" Such an outburst from their host produced a profound sensation upon the Pagans. The most tolerant of men, he was accustomed to listen to their wholesale denunciations of all things with a good natured smile, contenting himself with a calm contradiction now and then. Proverbial for his patience and good temper, he produced the greater sensation now when he gave vent to his anger upon a subject which not only Fenton but every guest present usually considered fair game. "I'm sorry I vexed you, Herman," Fenton said, turning to him after a moment's silence, "but however much I've abused women, you never heard me blackguard a woman in your life." "You are right," the sculptor replied, catching the other's slender hand in his stalwart grasp. "I beg your pardon. I'm out of sorts, I suppose, or I shouldn't be quarreling like a Christian. Let's brew a new bowl and drink to Pagan harmony." VIII. THE INLY TOUCH OF LOVE. Two Gentlemen of Verona; ii.--7. After the Pagans had separated that night Fred Rangely lingered in Herman's studio. The sculptor somehow found it possible to be more frank with Rangely than with any other of his companions, and although there was a difference of some half a dozen in the count of their years, and perhaps more in their ages as measured by experiences, Herman's strong but naturally stormy nature found much pleasure in the calm philosophy of his friend. Scarcely were the two men alone, when Rangely turned to his host and demanded abruptly: