"About her danger; the contingency of its being fixed upon them--an intimacy so thoroughgoing that they can scarcely afford to let it be seen even as a mere acquaintance. Think of the circumstances--_her_ personal ones, I mean, and admit that it wouldn't do. It would be too bad a case. There's everything to make it so. They must live on pins and needles. Anything proved would go tremendously hard for her." "In spite of which you're surprised that I 'protect' her?" It was a question, however, that my companion could meet. "From people in general, no. From me in particular, yes." In justice to Mrs. Brissenden I thought a moment. "Well, then, let us be fair all round. That you don't, as you say, breathe is a discretion I appreciate; all the more that a little inquiry, tactfully pursued, would enable you to judge whether any independent suspicion does attach. A little loose collateral evidence _might_ be picked up; and your scorning to handle it is no more than I should, after all, have expected of you." "Thank you for 'after all'!" My companion tossed her head. "I know for myself what I scorn to handle. Quite apart from that there's another matter. You must have noticed yourself that when people are so much liked----" "There's a kind of general, amiable consensus of blindness? Yes--one can think of cases. Popularity shelters and hallows--has the effect of making a good-natured world agree not to see." My friend seemed pleased that I so sufficiently understood. "This evidently has been a case then in which it has not only agreed not to see, but agreed not even to look. It has agreed in fact to look straight the other way. They say there's no smoke without fire, but it appears there may be fire without smoke. I'm satisfied, at all events, that one wouldn't in connection with these two find the least little puff. Isn't that just what makes the magnificence of their success--the success that reduces us to playing over them with mere moonshine?" She thought of it; seemed fairly to envy it. "I've never _seen_ such luck!" "A rare case of the beauty of impunity _as_ impunity?" I laughed. "Such a case puts a price on passions otherwise to be deprecated? I'm glad indeed you admit we're 'reduced.' We _are_ reduced. But what I meant to say just now was that if you'll continue to join in the genial conspiracy while I do the same--each of us making an exception only for the other--I'll pledge myself absolutely to the straight course. If before we separate I've seen reason to change my mind, I'll loyally let you know." "What good will that do me," she asked, "if you _don't_ change your mind? You won't change it if you shut your eyes to her." "Ah, I feel I can't do that now. I _am_ interested. The proof of that is," I pursued, "that I appeal to you for another impression of your own. I still don't see the logic of her general importunity." "The logic is simply that she has a terror of appearing to encourage anyone in particular."