"I'm sure we should," said he truly. "Mayn't I hope--"

She laughed outright.

"You have indeed the passion for acquaintance without introduction,"
she said. "No, you may _not_ call on me in town. Besides, I'm never
there. Good-bye. And take care of yourself. You're bound to be bitten
some day you know, and bitten badly."

"I wish I thought you forgave me."

"Forgive you? Of course I forgive you! You can no more help making
love, I suppose--no, don't interrupt: the thing's the same whatever
you call it--you can no more help making love than a cat can help
stealing cream. Only one day the cat gets caught, and badly beaten,
and one day you'll get caught, and the beating will be a bad one,
unless I'm a greater fool than I take myself for. And now I'll go and
unlock Betty's prison and console her. Don't worry about her. I'll see
that she's not put upon. Good night. No, in the circumstances you'd
better _not_ see me to my carriage!"

She shook hands cordially, and left Vernon to his thoughts.

Miss Desmond had done what she came to do, and he knew it. It was
almost a relief to feel that now he could not try to see Betty however
much he wished it,--however much he might know her to wish it. He
shrugged his shoulders and lighted another cigarette.

* * * * *