Then, almost simultaneously the curtains parted and the two sections of the piazza window swung inward. Baker who had left the two men very reluctantly, and had returned as soon as he decently could, was present at the climax. He jumped forward as he saw the two men facing each other over the narrow table, and comprehended the situation. But he was too late. He caught an ugly word from Wynrod. Then, with a savage oath, Faxon's arm shot out. There was the dull crunch of flesh against flesh, and the younger man staggered back from the impact; then blind with rage, he sprang forward again; a crash of shattered glass followed, as the mis-aimed whisky bottle splintered against the sideboard. Then, simultaneously the three men became aware of Judith standing white and statuesque in the window, her eyes ablaze with scorn and repulsion. Of what was said she had no clear memory afterwards. Roger, belligerent still, attempted a hot defence, but she silenced him with a cutting word. Faxon for the first time on record, found his suavity forsake him. He had been caught by his hostess in a disorderly broil, and his dapperness was marred with spattered liquor. His rhetoric quite broke down and he was conscious of making the most awkward exit of his career. * * * * * It was fully an hour later, when the house was quiet for the night, that Judith found Roger nursing a slight but smarting cut on his cheek, where Faxon's seal ring had grazed it. "Roger," she said, "that's enough 'first aid,' isn't it? I want to talk with you." "Oh, cut it out, Judith. Go to bed. I've had all a fellow can stand for one evening, without being lectured by you!" "It can't wait, Roger. I have some things that I must say to you now, to-night, and you have got to listen. I couldn't sleep if I didn't. I have waited too long already. If I hadn't, this wretched, vulgar thing wouldn't have happened.... And with one of your own guests, too." He straightened at that and lost his sheepish look. "One of my guests? Not by a million! I wouldn't have that damned bounder in my kennels. Why, hang it all, Judith, I can't see what you have the chap around for at all. He...." "You know perfectly well why I have him. He's here so that Della Baker can have a good time--poor girl." "Poor girl! Rats! Just because her husband doesn't play tag with her all day, she's 'poor girl.' Instead of behaving like a halfway decent sort, she's making several different kinds of a fool of herself over Joe Faxon. 'Poor girl?'--don't make me laugh!" "Oh, I heard what you said to Mr. Faxon. But it doesn't follow, Roger, just because you have a nasty mind that everybody is as horrid as you choose to think. Maybe there are some sides of a man's life that I'm not supposed to know about. But just escaping a breach of promise suit,--oh, Roger, shame on you!"