“I leave you. When you are in the gutter with this person, don't come to ask me for help. You can _encanailler_ yourself as much as you like, for all I care. This adventurer--” Jimmie interposed in his grand manner. “Pray remember, Mrs. Hardacre, that for the moment you are my guest.” “Your guest!” For the second time that evening she had been rebuked. Her eyes glittered with spite and fury. She lost control. “Your guest! If I went to rescue my daughter from a house of ill fame, should I regard myself as a guest of the keeper? How dare you? How do I know what does n't go on in this house? That girl over there--” Norma sprang forward and gripped her by the arm. “Mother!” She shook herself free. “How do I know? How _do_ you know? The man's name stinks over England. No decent woman has anything to do with him. Have you forgotten last autumn? That beastly affair? If you choose to succeed the other woman--” “Oh, damn it!” burst out Morland, suddenly. “This is more than I can stand. Have you forgotten what I told you a week ago?” The venomous woman was brought to a full stop. She stared helplessly at Morland, drawing quick panting breaths. She had forgotten that he was in the room. The cynicism was too gross even for him. There are limits to every man's baseness and cowardice. Moreover, his secret was known. To proclaim it himself was a more heroic escape than to let it be revealed with killing contempt by another. The two forces converged suddenly, and found their resultant in his outburst. It was characteristic of him that there should be two motives, though which one was the stronger it were hard to say--most likely revolt at the cynicism, for he was not a depraved man. Norma looked swiftly from one to the other. “What did you tell my mother a week ago?” Jimmie picked up Morland's crush-hat that lay on the table and thrust it into his hand. “Oh, that's enough, my dear good fellow. Don't talk about those horrible things. Mrs. Hardacre would like to be going. You had better see her home. Good-night.” He pushed him, as he spoke, gently towards Mrs. Hardacre, who was already moving towards the door. But Norma came up. “I insist upon knowing,” she said. “No, no,” said Jimmie, in an agitated voice. “Let the dead past bury its dead. Don't rake up old horrors.” Morland cleared himself away from Jimmie. “My God! You are a good man. I've been an infernal blackguard. Everybody had better know. If Jimmie hadn't taken it upon himself, that madman would have shot me. He would have hit the right man. I wish to heaven he had.” Norma grew white. “And this is what you told my mother?” “I thought I ought to,” said Morland, looking away from the anxious faces around him. “You shouldn't have done it,” said Jimmie, in a low voice. He was bent like a guilty person. Norma went to the door and opened it. “Kindly see my mother into a cab.” “Please take the brougham,” said Connie. “Norma and I will take a cab later.”