during the interview.

"That's very decent of you," he said, "but of course I sha'n't put
the good faith of your offer to the test. I don't want something
for nothing. I'll take care of you nicely."

Thus far Bob had yielded precedence to his father, but he could no
longer restrain himself. "Now let me take the chair," he
commanded, easily. "My mind is made up. You see, I didn't marry
'Peter Knight, residence Vale,' nor 'James Knight, reputation
bad,' nor even 'Mathilda Knight, wife of Peter.' I married this
kid, and the books are closed. You say the Knights are a bad lot,
and Lorelei's reputation is a trifle discolored: maybe you're
right, but mine has some inky blots on it, too, and I guess the
cleanest part of it would just about match the darkest that hers
can show. I seem to have all the best of the deal."

"Don't be an ass," growled his father.

"I've always been one--I may as well be consistent" Bob felt the
slender form at his side begin to tremble, and smiled down into
the troubled blue eyes upturned to his. "Maybe we'll both have to
do some forgiving and forgetting. I believe that's usual
nowadays."

"Oh, I'm not whitewashing you," Hannibal snapped. "She probably
knows what you are."

"I do," agreed Lorelei. "He's a--drunkard, and everything that
means. But you taught him to drink before he could choose for