And he really didn't know what to say. He didn't want to have a scene--he shrunk timidly from violence of any kind; but he really must secure the letters. How they would laugh at the Club! Why, he could hear the guffaws of all Pendragon! London would be one enormous scream of laughter!--all Europe would be amused! and to his excited fancy Asia and Africa seemed to join the chorus! A Trojan and a common girl in a breach of promise case! A Trojan! "I say," he stammered, "you don't know how serious it is. People will laugh, you know, if you bring the case on. Of course it was silly of him--Robin, I mean. I can't conceive myself how he ever came to do such a thing. Boys will be boys, and you're rather pretty, my dear. But, bless me, if we were to take all these little things seriously, why, where would some of us be?" He paused, and hinted impressively at a hideous past. "You _are_ attractive, you know." He looked at her in his most flattering manner--"Quite a nice girl, only you shouldn't take it seriously--really you shouldn't." This manner of speech was a great deal more offensive than the other, and Dahlia got up, her cheeks flushed-- "That is enough, Mr. Trojan. I think this had better come to an end. I can only repeat what I have said already, that I cannot give you the letters--and, indeed, if I had ever intended to do so, your last speech, at least, would have changed my mind--I am sorry that I cannot oblige you, but there is really nothing further to be said." He tried to stammer something; he faced her for a moment and endeavoured to be indignant, and then, to his own intense astonishment, found that he was walking down the stairs with the drawing-room door closed behind him. How amazing!--but he had done his best, and, if he had failed, why, after all, no other man could have succeeded any better. And she really was rather bewitching--he had not expected anything quite like that. What had he expected? He did not know, but he thought of his softly-carpeted, nicely-cushioned room with pleasurable anticipation. He would fling himself into his book when he got back ... he had several rather neat ideas.... He noticed, with pleasure, that the young man standing by the door of Mead's Groceries touched his hat very respectfully, and Twitchett, his tailor, bowed. Come, come! There were a few people left who had some sense of Trojan supremacy. It wasn't such a bad world! He would have tea in his room--not with Clare--and crumpets--yes, he liked crumpets.