do more than that, if a great test came. Men feel surer of women than
women feel of men.

He sat down on the broad window-ledge, still sipping his whiskey and
milk, as he looked at her. She was very good to see. Presently she had
to cross a little plot of grass. The dew was still on it. She gathered
up her skirts and tip-toed quickly across it. The action was attractive
enough, for she had a lithe smoothness of motion. Suddenly he uttered an
exclamation of surprise.

"White stockings--humph!" he said.

Somehow those white stockings suggested the ironical comment of the world
upon his proposed mesalliance; then he laughed good-humouredly.

"Taste is all a matter of habit, anyhow," said he to himself. "My own
sister wouldn't have had any better taste if she hadn't been taught. And
what am I?

"What am I? I drink more whiskey in a day than any three men in the
country. I don't do a stroke of work; I've got debts all over the world;
I've mulcted all my friends; I've made fools of two or three women in my
time; I've broken every commandment except--well, I guess I've broken
every one, if it comes to that, in spirit, anyhow. I'm a thief, a fire-
eating highwayman, begad, and here I am, with a perforated lung, going to
marry a young girl like that, without one penny in the world except what
I stole! What beasts men are! The worst woman may be worse than the
worst man, but all men are worse than most women. But she wants to marry
me. She knows exactly what I am in health and prospects; so why
shouldn't I?"