Her smile as he rejoined her had pathos in it. The totality of her was
delicious.

"You cannot be all bad, Miss Winstock," said he to her, after
instructing the chauffeur, "because nobody is. You are undisciplined.
You do wild and rash things--you have already accomplished several this
morning. But you have righteous instincts, though not often enough. Of
course, with one word to the insurance company I could save you. The
difficulty is that I could not save you without saving Mr. Carrel Quire
also. And it would be very wrong of me to save Mr. Carrel Quire, for to
save him would be to jeopardise the future of the British Empire,
because unless he is scotched, that man's frantic egotism and ruthless
ambition will achieve political disaster for four hundred million human
beings. I should like to save you. But can I weigh you in the balance
against an Empire? Can I, I say?"

"No," answered Miss Winstock weakly but sincerely.

"That's just where you're wrong," said Mr. Prohack. "I can. And you are
shamefully ignorant of history. Never yet when empire, any empire, has
been weighed in the balance against a young and attractive woman has the
young woman failed to win! That is a dreadful fact, but men are thus
constituted. Had you been a hag, I should not have hesitated to do my
duty to my country. But as you are what you are, and sitting so
agreeably in my car, I will save you and let my country go."

"Oh! Mr. Prohack, you are very kind--but every one told me you were."

"No! I am a knave. Also there is a condition."