"I am drinking that same toast again--after many days," she said. "With all that it entails?" She nodded. "Its chances, hazards, consequences?" She laughed, then, looking at him, deliberately sipped from her glass, the defiant smile in her eyes still daring him and Chance and Destiny together. When he took her out she was saying: "I really can't account for my mood to-night. I believe that seeing you again is reviving me. I was beastly stupid." "My soporific society ought to calm, not exhilarate you." "It never did, particularly. What a long time it is since we have seen each other. I _am_ glad you came." Seated, she asked the butler to remove the flowers which interrupted her view of Quarren. "You haven't said anything about my personal appearance," she observed. "Am I very much battered by my merry bouts with pleasure?" "Not much." "You wretch! Do you mean to say that I am marked at all?" "You look rather tired, Mrs. Leeds." "I know I do. By daylight it's particularly visible.... But--do _you_ mind?" Her charming head was bent over her grapefruit: she lifted her gray eyes under level brows, looking across the table at him. "I mind anything that concerns you," he said. "I mean--are you disappointed because I'm growing old and haggard?" "I think you are even more beautiful than you were." She laughed gaily and continued her dinner. "I _had_ to drag that out of you, poor boy. But you see I'm uneasy; because imprudence _is_ stamping the horrid imprint of maturity on me very rapidly; and I'm beginning to keep a more jealous eye on my suitors. You _were_ one. Do you deny your guilt?" "I do not." "Then I shall never release you. I intend to let no guilty man escape. _Am_ I very much changed, Mr. Quarren?" she said a trifle wistfully. He did not answer immediately. After a few moments she glanced at him again and met his gaze. "Well?" she prompted him, laughing; "are you not neglecting your manners as a declared suitor?" "You _have_ changed." "What a perfect pill you are!" she exclaimed, vexed--"you're casting yourself for the rôle of the honest friend--and I simply hate it! Young sir, do you not understand that I've breakfasted, lunched and dined too long on flattery to endure anything more wholesome? If you can't lie to me like a gentleman and a suitor your usefulness in my entourage is ended." He said: "Do you want me to talk shop with you? I get rather tired of my trade, sometimes. It's my trade to lie, you know." She looked up, quickly, but he was smiling. They remained rather silent after that. Coffee was served at table; she lighted a cigarette for him and, later, one for herself, strolling off into the drawing-room with it between her fingers, one hand resting lightly on her hip. She seemed to have an inclination to wander about or linger before the marble fireplace and blow delicate rings of smoke at her own reflection in the mirror.