The faded blue eyes of the carefully dressed old roué began to look uncomfortably from one object to another; anywhere, indeed, but into those scorching orbs, with their suppressed fires. Then he took his courage in his hands, and tried again. “My dear Lorraine, you seem to be taking rather a theatrical view of a very commonplace matter. Of course it is bad for the boy to get mixed up in a scandal, just at the beginning of his career, or, for the matter of that, talked about with a celebrated actress whose husband is known to be living somewhere. I have come to you as a man of the world, to ask you as a woman of the world to be generous in the matter, and help me to set the minds of his parents at rest at once—” “Ah! It was as a man of the world you came to me before; but then I—I”—she gave a low, unpleasant laugh—“I wasn’t a woman of the world, you see, until you had taught me, and left me.” He did not quite know what the laugh meant, but now his old eyes were roaming over the beauty that was yet hers, and memory was stirring, and something made him reckless. “Don’t speak of it like that,” he pleaded drawing a little nearer. “I know I didn’t perhaps treat you quite well; but if there are any amends I can make now?—If you will let us be friends again?—” “Amends—amends. What do I want with amends from such as you?” And her eyes flashed dangerously. He retreated quickly, with a hurt, rather cowed expression. “Well, Fate has thrown us together again and I am still a bachelor—and I have money—” “Do please try not to insult me any further.” Lorraine had grown calmer, though the dangerous look was still in her eyes, and she moved away to the window, leaving a large space between them, and half-turned her back to him. “I have already burnt the epistle I received from Mrs. Hermon—its insults were too utterly foolish to notice. You may go back and tell her her son has never received any harm from me, and I absolutely decline to discuss the question any further. As for yourself—you will doubtless find a taxi on the rank, just outside.” “But, my dear lady, I cannot go back leaving the matter like that.” He grew emboldened again, now that he could not see her eyes. “I am here to plead on Alymer’s behalf. If you are fond of him, you must at least listen to reason for his sake.” “Not from you. And who are his people that they dare to treat me like this? . . . First an insulting letter, and then an emissary such as you—” “Alymer is my nephew, and his mother is my sister, and therefore I am a most suitable emissary, except for a certain incident of long ago, which has long been consigned to oblivion by both of us, I am sure. The boy is young. He is on the threshold of life and a great career. What will be the result, do you think, if you refuse to listen, and perhaps ruin his prospects for your own pleasure?” She turned back to him a moment, and the smouldering fires leaped up.