mathematician. As cool as a cracksman of fame and fancy."

The Duchess dropped the fan in her lap. "My dear, I've said nothing as
bad as that about him. And there he is at the Foreign Office!"

"Yet, what has he done, Betty, after all? He has never cheated at cards,
or forged a cheque, or run away with his neighbour's wife."

"There's no credit in not doing what you don't want to do. There's no
virtue in not falling, when you're not tempted. Neighbour's wife! He
hasn't enough feeling to face it. Oh no, he'll not break the heart of
his neighbour's wife. That's melodrama, and he's a cold-blooded artist.
He will torture that sweet child over there until she poisons him, or
runs away."

"Isn't he too clever for that? She has a million!"

"He'll not realise it till it's all over. He's too selfish to see--how I
hate him!"

Lord Windlehurst smiled indulgently at her. "Ah, you never hated any
one--not even the Duke."

"I will not have you take away my character. Of course I've hated, or I
wouldn't be worth a button. I'm not the silly thing you've always
thought me."

His face became gentler. "I've always thought you one of the wisest
women of this world--adventurous, but wise. If it weren't too late, if
my day weren't over, I'd ask the one great favour, Betty, and--"