But here the shoe tying was finished, and Rawson-Clew intimated politely that he was not anxious to be reminded of things he had forgotten.  “You began by saying you would tell me about yourself,” he said; “will you not go on?”

“I have more brains than my father,” she said, “and no more principles.”

“Ergo—­you succeed where he falls short; in fact, you are an adventuress—­is that it?  My dear child, you neither are, nor ever could be; believe me, I really do know, though, as you have indicated, my morality is rather mechanical and my experience much as other men’s.  You see, I, too, have graduated in the study of humanity in the university of cosmopolis; I don’t think my degree is as high as yours, and I certainly did not take it so young, but I believe I know an adventuress when I see one.  You will never do in that walk of life; I don’t mean to insinuate that you haven’t brains enough, or that you would ever lose your head; it isn’t that you would lose, it’s your heart.”

“I haven’t;” Julia cried hotly.  “I have not lost my heart; that has nothing to do with it.”

“I did not say that you had,” Rawson-Clew reminded her; “of course not, you have not lost it, and could not easily.  I did not mean that; I only meant that it would interfere with your success as an adventuress.”

“It would not,” Julia persisted; “I don’t care about people a bit; it isn’t that, it is simply that I am sick of deception, that is why I am telling you the truth.  And as for the other thing—­the daffodil”—­she forgot that he did not know about it—­“I couldn’t take it from any one so silly, so childish, so trusting.”

“Of course not,” Rawson-Clew said.  “I don’t know what the daffodil thing is, nor from whom you could not take it—­please don’t tell me; I never take the slightest interest in other people’s business, it bores me.  But, you see, you bear out what I say; you are of those strong who are merciful; you would make no success as an adventuress.  Besides, your tastes are too simple; I have some recollections of your mentioning corduroy—­er—­trousers and a diet of onions as the height of your ambition.”

Julia laughed in spite of herself.  “That is only when I retire,” she said.  “I haven’t retired yet; until I do I am—­”

“The incarnation of the seven deadly sins?” Rawson-Clew finished for her, with a smile in his eyes.  “No doubt of it; I expect that is what makes you good company.”

So, after all, it came about that she did not get her confession made in full.  But, then, there hardly seemed need for it; it appeared that Rawson-Clew already knew a great deal about her, and did not think the worse of her for it.  Rather it seemed he thought better than she had even believed; he, himself, too, was rather different—­there had crept a note of warmth and personality into their acquaintance which had not been there before.  Julia had pleasant thoughts for company on her homeward walk, in spite