"I said that probably you and I would find no time left to criticise either De Groot or the clergy, if we used our leisure in self-examination." His lordship went on piling up chairs. When he finished he started wandering around, hands in his pockets. Then he turned out all the electric lamps, drew the bay-window curtains wide so that the silvery radiance from the arc-light opposite made the darkness dimly lustrous. A little breeze stirred the hair on Quarren's forehead; Dankmere dropped into the depths of an armchair near him. For a while they sat together in darkness and silence, then the Englishman said abruptly: "You've been very kind to me." Quarren glanced up surprised. "Why not?" "Because nobody else has any decent words to say to me or of me." Quarren, amused, said: "How do you know that I have, Dankmere?" "A man knows some things. For example, most people take me for an ass--they don't tell me so but I know it. And if they don't take me for an ass they assume that I'm something worse--because I have a title of sorts, no money, an inclination for the stage and the people who make a living out of it." "Also," Quarren reminded him, "you are looking for a wealthy wife." "God bless my soul! Am I the only chap in America who happens to be doing that?" "No; but you're doing it conspicuously." "You mean I'm honest about it?" Quarren laughed: "Anyway perhaps that's one reason why I like you. At first I also thought it was merely stupidity." Dankmere crossed his short legs and lighted his pipe: "The majority of your better people have managed not to know me. I've met a lot of men of sorts, but they draw the line across their home thresholds--most of them. Is it the taint of vaudeville that their wives sniff at, or my rather celebrated indigence?" "Both, Dankmere--and then some." "Oh, I see. Many thanks for telling me. I take it you mean that it was my first wife they shy at." Quarren remained silent. "She was a bar-maid," remarked the Earl. "We were quite happy--until she died." Quarren made a slight motion of comprehension. "Of course my marrying her damned us both," observed the Earl. "Of course." "Quite so. People would have stood for anything else.... But she wouldn't--you may think it odd.... And I was in love--so there you are." For a while they smoked in the semi-darkness without exchanging further speech; and finally Dankmere knocked out his pipe, pocketed it, and put on his hat. "You know," he said, "I'm not really an ass. My tastes and my caste don't happen to coincide--that's all, Quarren." They walked together to the front stoop. "When do we open shop?" asked the Earl, briskly. "As soon as I get the reports from our experts." "Won't business be dead all summer?" "We may do some business with agents and dealers." "I see. You and I are to alternate as salesmen?"