"There it is! You women always run to extremes! 'Gladly die' indeed! Poor girl, why should you 'die' for him or for any man! That's sheer sentimental nonsense! There's not a man that ever lived, or that ever will live, that's worth the death of a woman! That's so! Men think too much of themselves--they've been killing women ever since they were born--it's time they stopped a bit." Manella's beautiful eyes expressed bewilderment. "Killing women? Is that what they do?" "Yes, my good girl!--that is what they do! The silly trusting creatures go to them like lambs, and get their throats cut! In marriage or out of it--the throat-cutting goes on, for men are made of destructive stuff and love the sport of killing. They are never satisfied unless they can kill something--a bird, a fox or a woman. I'm a man myself and I know!" "YOU would kill a woman?" Manella's voice was a horrified whisper. Gwent laughed. "No,--not I, my child! I'm too old. I've done with love-making and 'sport' of all kinds. I don't even drive a golf-ball, in make-believe that it's a woman I'm hitting as fast and far as I can. Oh, yes!--you stare!--you are wondering why, if I have such ideas, I should suggest love-making and marriage to YOU,--well, I don't actually recommend it!--but I'm rather thinking more of your 'god' than of you. You might possibly help him a bit--" "Ah, I am not clever!" sighed Manella. "No--you're not clever--thank God for it! But you're devoted--and devotion is sometimes more than cleverness." He paused, reflectively. "Well, I'll have to go away tomorrow--it wouldn't be any use my staying on here. In fact, I'd rather be out of the way. But I've a notion I may be able to do something for Seaton in Washington when I get back--in the meantime I'll leave a letter for you to give him--" "You will not write of me in that letter!" interrupted the girl, hastily. "No--you must not--you could not!---" Gwent raised a deprecating hand. "Don't be afraid, my girl! I'm not a cad. I wouldn't give you away for the world! I've no right to say a word about you, and I shall not. My letter will be a merely business one--you shall read it if you like---" "Oh no!"--she said at once, with proud frankness; "I would not doubt your word!" Gwent gave her a comprehensively admiring glance. Even in the dusk of evening her beauty shone with the brilliance of a white flower among the dark foliage. "What a sensation she would make in New York!" he thought--"With those glorious eyes and that hair!" And a vague regret for his lost youth moved him; he was a very wealthy man, and had he been in his prime he would have tried a matrimonial chance with this unspoilt beautiful creature,--it would have pleased him to robe her in queenly garments and to set the finest diamonds in her dark tresses, so that she should be the wonder and envy of all beholders. He answered her last remark with a kindly little nod and smile.