stand less between us, poured himself another glass of wine, and flicked
the dust from the bottle off his sleeve.

"Indeed?" was his comment. "Your memory does you credit, even though
youthful impressions are apt to lodge fast. Or shall I say it is only
another proof of the veracity of my man of business? Two months ago, at
a certain little gathering, someone, whose name I have yet to discover,
informed you of certain bad habits I had contracted in games of chance. I
remember being interested at the time that my reputation lasted so well
in my absence. But I beg you--let me confirm the report still further. Am
I mistaken in believing you made some apt retort?"

"Sir," I said in a voice that sounded strangely discordant, "I told
him he lied."

"Ha!" said my father, and for a moment I thought he was going to commend
my act, but instead his eyes moved to the table.

"Brutus," he continued, "is my mind becoming cloudy, or is it true the
wine is running low? Open another bottle, Brutus."

There was a silence while he raised his glass to his lips.

"And am I right," he asked, "in recalling that you allowed yourself the
liberty--of punctuating that comment?"

"You have been well informed, sir," I answered. "I struck him in
the face."

He waved a hand to me in a pleasant gesture of acknowledgment, and half