All the time that Pierre was talking Mary became more and more conscious of him as a man. She had never regarded Jemmie except as an institution. These eyes that looked so eagerly into hers and at the same time beyond hers to remote shores and distant mountain-peaks made her heart beat faster, her breath come and go. Yet, he was only talking to her as he had talked to an audience the other night. There was nothing personal, still less intimate, in his words. "I was very lucky to arrive in Madagascar just before we went to war with Queen Ranavalona--a very remarkable woman. So was her niece who succeeded her. I was also lucky to know English so well, because you English were always there behind the scenes with your officers in the Malagasy army; besides, there were always negotiations with your consular officials. We shall have war again in Madagascar soon." "Again?" Mary echoed in alarm. Pierre made a gesture of contempt. "It will not be a very dangerous war for us," he laughed. At this moment Jemmie, to his wife's regret, came in unexpectedly early. "This is Monsieur Menard," she said, introducing the stranger with an air of faint embarrassment as if she were explaining the presence of some odd new decorative addition to the drawing-room of Woodworth Lodge. "Monsieur Menard visited us in King's Gate before we were married. He has been abroad for ten years." "Charmed to make your acquaintance," said Pierre, bowing. Jemmie shook hands with English awkwardness, evidently wondering how on earth he was expected to reply to the exaggerated courtesy of the stranger. "I was wondering what night would suit Monsieur Menard to come and dine with us." Jemmie glared at his wife in amazement; but without being openly rude he did not know how to dispose of the unwelcome invitation. "What in creation put it in your head to ask that fellow to dinner?" he demanded when Pierre was gone. "You might have guessed that he would accept. He was probably afraid to refuse for fear of being rude." "On the contrary, I think he was agreeably surprised to find that somebody in this house was polite enough to invite him," said Mary. "That's meant for me, I suppose? If I were you, Mary, I should keep a check on my tongue. A sharp tongue doesn't add to a woman's charm. Where did you pick this fellow up?" "I told you. He used to visit us at King's Gate before we were married." "I don't see why we should have all your grandmother's foreign friends and acquaintances foisted on us for the rest of our lives," Jemmie grumbled. "And I wish you'd answer my question. Where did you meet him again?" "At a lecture on Madagascar to which I took my girls." Jemmie threw up his eyebrows to express compassion for human folly.