And he said to himself:  “That’s one for her.  If she likes to be so desperately funny about postage-stamps, I don’t see why I shouldn’t have my turn.”  The recollection that it was precisely Herbert Calvert whom he had supplanted in the supper-dance at the Countess of Chell’s historic ball somehow increased his confidence in his ability to manage the interview with brilliance.

Ruth’s voice grew severe and chilly.  It seemed incredible that she had just been laughing.

“I will tell you about Mr Herbert Calvert;” she enunciated her words with slow, stern clearness.  “Mr Herbert Calvert took advantage of his visits here for his rent to pay his attentions to me.  At one time he was so far—­well—­gone, that he would scarcely take his rent.”

“Really!” murmured Denry, genuinely staggered by this symptom of the distance to which Mr Herbert Calvert was once “gone.”

“Yes,” said Ruth, still sternly and inimically.  “Naturally a woman can’t make up her mind about these things all of a sudden,” she continued.  “Naturally!” she repeated.

“Of course,” Denry agreed, perceiving that his experience of life, and deep knowledge of human nature were being appealed to.

“And when I did decide definitely, Mr Herbert Calvert did not behave like a gentleman.  He forgot what was due to himself and to me.  I won’t describe to you the scene he made.  I’m simply telling you this, so that you may know.  To cut a long story short, he behaved in a very vulgar way.  And a woman doesn’t forget these things, Mr Machin.”  Her eyes threatened him.  “I decided to punish Mr Herbert Calvert.  I thought if he wouldn’t take his rent before—­well, let him wait for it now!  I might have given him notice to leave.  But I didn’t.  I didn’t see why I should let myself be upset because Mr Herbert Calvert had forgotten that he was a gentleman.  I said, ‘Let him wait for his rent,’ and I promised myself I would just see what he would dare to do.”

“I don’t quite follow your argument,” Denry put in.

“Perhaps you don’t,” she silenced him.  “I didn’t expect you would.  You and Mr Herbert Calvert...!  So he didn’t dare to do anything himself, and he’s paying you to do his dirty work for him!  Very well!  Very well!...”  She lifted her head defiantly.  “What will happen if I don’t pay the rent?”

“I shall have to let things take their course,” said Denry with a genial smile.

“All right, then,” Ruth Earp responded.  “If you choose to mix yourself up with people like Mr Herbert Calvert, you must take the consequences!  It’s all the same to me, after all.”

“Then it isn’t convenient for you to pay anything on account?” said Denry, more and more affable.

“Convenient!” she cried.  “It’s perfectly convenient, only I don’t care to.  I won’t pay a penny until I’m forced.  Let Mr Herbert Calvert do his worst, and then I’ll pay.  And not before!  And the whole town shall hear all about Mr Herbert Calvert!”