"There are bound to be cases in which it would work very cruelly. One realizes that. But ought it to make a difference? There must always be those who have to be sacrificed for the sake of the community." Henry Harper appreciated the strength of that argument. At the moment, in the strangeness of his surroundings, he was not able to grapple with it. But he was dimly aware that almost unknown to himself he had come to the border of another perilous country. XII As the June night was ablaze with stars Edward Ambrose and the Sailor walked some of the way home together. "I hope you enjoyed yourself," said Ambrose. Was it possible for a man to do otherwise with gray-eyed Athena sitting beside him nearly the whole evening! "I enjoyed myself very much," said the Sailor simply. "The Pridmores are very old friends of mine. An interesting family, I always think." They walked on in silence for a little time, and then the Sailor said suddenly: "Mary seems to have strong ideas about divorce." As he spoke he felt a curious tension. "Surprisingly so," said Edward Ambrose, in his detached way, "for such a modern girl. Somehow one doesn't quite expect it." "No," said the Sailor. "It is the measure of her genuineness." Edward Ambrose seemed at that moment to be addressing his words less to the young man at his side than to the stars of heaven. "But she is very complex to me. I've known her all her life.... I've watched her grow up." A whimsical sigh was certainly addressed to the stars of heaven. "It is rather wonderful to see all that Pridmore and Colthurst crassness and narrowness, that has somehow made England great in spite of itself--if you know what I mean..." The Sailor didn't know in the least, but that was of no consequence to Edward Ambrose in the expression of his mood. "... touched to finer issues." The Sailor knew now, but his companion gave him no chance to say so. "She's so strong and fine, so independent, so modern!" Edward Ambrose laughed his rare note, yet for some reason it was without gaiety. The truth was he had long been deeply in love with Mary Pridmore, but it was only in certain moments that he realized it. "I suppose you knew Klondyke?" said the Sailor, wistfully. "Her brother Jack? Oh, yes. He's thrown back to some Viking strain. One can hardly imagine his being the brother of Otto and the son of his mother or the son of his father." "I can imagine Mary being the sister of Klondyke," said the Sailor. "Really! I never see her at quite that angle myself. He's a funny chap." Edward Ambrose was really not thinking at all of any mere male member of the Pridmore family. "Might have done well in diplomacy. Son of his father. Ought to have gone far." Again Edward Ambrose loosed his wonderful note, but it had nothing to do with Jack Pridmore. "And what does he do? And yet, the odd thing is he may be right." "Klondyke's a white man from way back," said the Sailor abruptly.