'Hasn't he realized the fruitlessness of that yet?' he asked. 'Sybil refused him point-blank, I know; and really, when she follows that up by going out to Davos to coax Charlie back to life, you would have thought that a third party was not--well, exactly of the party.' 'Sybil is an enigma,' said Ginger. 'She went to America in the autumn with the avowed intention of getting married, with Bilton indicated. She comes back in a scurry, refuses him, and instantly constitutes herself life-preserver to Charlie, whom she had also refused. What is she playing at? That's what I want to know.' Bertie took up a quantity of waste-papers, and thrust them down into the basket. 'She's not playing at anything just now,' he said. 'She's just being a human woman, trying to save the life of a friend. Judy talked to me about it. The only interest in life to Charlie was she, and she is trying to get him to take an interest in life that isn't her!' 'That will require some delicacy of touch,' remarked Ginger. 'It will. She has it--whether enough remains to be seen. Charlie had one foot in the grave when she came back, I'm told; she has taken that out, anyhow.' 'But does she mean to marry him?' asked Ginger. 'I can't believe she will succeed in getting him back to life without, anyhow, holding that out as a prospect.' 'It's really a delicate position,' said Bertie; 'and it is made more interesting by the fact that physically Charlie is so like Bilton. In other respects,' he added, 'they are remarkably dissimilar.' 'Do you like him?' 'No; I have got an awful distaste for him. Why I don't quite know. That rather accentuates it.' Ginger sat up from his reclining attitude. 'Bertie, I'm awfully interested in one thing, and I haven't seen you since you came back,' he said. 'Was there any--well, any difficulty with Dorothy Emsworth?' Bertie paused in his labours, divided in his mind as to whether he should tell Ginger or not. He had a great opinion of his shrewdness, but, having himself managed his crisis, paid up, and got back the letter, he did not consider that there was any need for advice or counsel from anybody. So he decided not to tell him. 'She was quite friendly in America,' he said; 'I saw her several times; she even stayed down at Port Washington.' Ginger, as has been seen, was immensely interested in other people's affairs, having none, as he said, of his own which could possibly interest anybody. On this occasion he could not quite stifle his curiosity. 'I remember you telling me that you once wrote her a very--very friendly letter,' he said. 'Certainly. It is in my possession now. I keep it as an interesting memento.' Ginger shuddered slightly. 'I should as soon think of keeping a corpse,' he said. 'Burn it. She's rather a brick to have given it you back, though. Sort of wedding-present?' 'Yes, a valuable one.' 'Does she still carry on with Bilton?' asked Ginger. 'I don't know.'