purity?"

"An angel on horseback! Whoever heard of such a thing?"

"It's the name of a rather fiery savoury," said I.

"In a circus!" she continued.

"Well," said I, "the ring of a circus is not essentially one of the
circles in Dante's Inferno."

"Of course, my dear Simon," she said, with some impatience, "if you
defend him--"

I hastened to interrupt her. "I don't. I think he is an egregious young
idiot; but before taking action it's well to get a clear idea of the
facts. By the way, how do you know she's not painted?"

"I've seen her--seen her with my own eyes in Dale's company--at the
Savoy. He's there supping with her every night. General Lamont told
me. I wouldn't believe it--Dale flaunting about in public with her.
The General offered to take me there after the inaugural meeting of
the International Aid Society at Grosvenor House. I went, and saw them
together. I shall never forget the look in the boy's eyes till my dying
day. She has got him body and soul. One reads of such things in the
poets, one sees it in pictures; but I've never come across it in real
life--never, never. It's dreadful, horrible, revolting. To think that a
son of mine, brought up from babyhood to calculate all his actions
with mathematical precision, should be guilty of this profligacy! It's
driving me mad, Simon; it really is. I don't know what to do. I've come