"Caring--taking you seriously! And it's because you deliberately exhibit disrespect for yourself! A man--_any_ man is what he chooses to be, and people always believe him what he pretends to be. Is there any harm in pretending to dignity and worth when--when you can be the peer of any man? What's the use of inviting contempt? This very day a woman spoke of you with contempt. I denied what she said.... I'd rather they'd say anything else about you--that you had vices--a vigorous, wilful, unmanageable man's vices!--than to say _that_ of you!" "What?" "That you amount to nothing." "Do you care what they say, Mrs. Leeds?" "Of course! It strikes at my own self-respect!" "Do you care--otherwise?" "I care--as a friend, naturally----" "Otherwise still?" "No!" "Could you ever care?" "No," she said, nervously. She sat breathing faster and more irregularly, watching him. He looked up and smiled at her, rested so, a moment, then rose to take his leave. She stretched out one arm toward the electric bell, but her fingers seemed to miss it, and remained resting against the silk-hung wall. "Are you going?" she asked. "Yes." "Must you?" "I think I'd better." "Very well." He waited, but she did not touch the bell button. She seemed to be waiting for him to go; so he offered his hand, pleasantly, and turned away toward the hall. And, rising leisurely, she descended the stairs with him in silence. "Good-night," he said again. "Good-night. I am sorry you are going." "Did you wish me to remain a little longer?" "I--don't know what I wish...." Her cheeks were deeply flushed; the hand he took into his again seemed burning. "It's fearfully hot in here," she said. "Please muffle up warmly because it's bitter weather out doors"--and she lifted the other hand as though unconsciously and passed her finger tips over his fur collar. "Do you feel feverish?" "A little. Do you notice how warm my hand is?" "You haven't caught malaria in the tropics, have you?" "No, you funny man. I'm never ill. But it's odd how burning hot I seem to be----" She looked down at her fingers which still lay loosely across his. They were silent for a while. And, little by little it seemed to her as though within her a curious stillness was growing, responsive to the quiet around her--a serenity stealing over her, invading her mind like a delicate mist--a dreamy mental lethargy, soothing, obscuring sense and thought. Vaguely she was aware of their contact. He neither spoke nor stirred; and her palm burned softly, meltingly against his. At last he lifted her hand and laid his lips to it in silence. Small head lowered, she dreamily endured his touch--a slight caress over her forehead--the very ghost of contact; suffered his cheek against hers, closer, never stirring.