"You mean that Mr. Quarrier had you--dropped?"

"What else could he do? A man who is idiot enough to risk making his own
club notorious, must take the consequences. And they say I took that
risk. Therefore Mr. Quarrier, Major Belwether--all the governors did
their duty. I--I naturally conclude that no governor of the Patroons Club
feels very kindly toward me."

Miss Landis sat very still, her small head bent, a flush still
brightening her fair face.

She recalled a few of the details now--the scandal--something of the
story. Which particular actress it was she could not remember; but some
men who had dined too freely had made the wager, and this boy sitting
beside her had accepted it--and won it, by bringing into the sacred
precincts of the Patroons Club a foolish, shameless girl disguised in a
man's evening dress.

That was bad enough; that somebody promptly discovered it was worse; but
worst of all was the publicity, the club's name smirched, the young man
expelled from one of the two best clubs in the metropolis.

To read of such things in the columns of a daily paper had meant little
to her except to repell her; to hear it mentioned among people of her
own sort had left her incurious and indifferent. But now she saw it in a
new light, with the man who had figured in it seated beside her. Did
such men as he--such attractive, well-bred, amusing men as he--do that
sort of thing?