“And what a capital story it was!  I shall borrow it for my own use.  If I am caught I shall say I had to read Aline to sleep because she suffers from insomnia.  And I shouldn’t wonder if she did—­poor girl!  She doesn’t get enough to eat.  She is being starved—­poor child!  I heard one of the footmen say that she refused everything at dinner last night.  And, though she vows it isn’t, my belief is that it’s all because she is afraid to make a stand against her old father.  It’s a shame!”

“She is a weak creature, to be shielded and petted,” said Ashe solemnly.

Joan laughed.

“Well, yes; you caught me there.  I admit that poor Aline is not a shining example of the formidable modern woman; but—­” She stopped.  “Oh, bother!  I’ve just thought of what I ought to have said—­the good repartee that would have crushed you.  I suppose it’s too late now?”

“Not at all.  I’m like that myself—­only it is generally the next day when I hit the right answer.  Shall we go back? . . .  She is a weak creature, to be shielded and petted.”

“Thank you so much,” said Joan gratefully.  “And why is she a weak creature?  Because she has allowed herself to be shielded and petted; because she has permitted man to give her special privileges, and generally—­No; it isn’t so good as I thought it was going to be.”

“It should be crisper,” said Ashe critically.  “It lacks the punch.”

“But it brings me back to my point, which is that I am not going to imitate her and forfeit my independence of action in return for chivalry.  Try to look at it from my point of view, Mr. Marson.  I know you need the money just as much as I do.  Well, don’t you think I should feel a little mean if I thought you were not trying your hardest to get it, simply because you didn’t think it would be fair to try your hardest against a woman?  That would cripple me.  I should not feel as though I had the right to do anything.  It’s too important a matter for you to treat me like a child and let me win to avoid disappointing me.  I want the money; but I don’t want it handed to me.”

“Believe me,” said Ashe earnestly, “it will not be handed to you.  I have studied the Baxter question more deeply than you have, and I can assure you that Baxter is a menace.  What has put him so firmly on the right scent I don’t know; but he seems to have divined the exact state of affairs in its entirety—­so far as I am concerned, that is to say.  Of course he has no idea you are mixed up in the business; but I am afraid his suspicion of me will hit you as well.  What I mean is that, for some time to come, I fancy that man proposes to camp out on the rug in front of the museum door.  It would be madness for either of us to attempt to go there at present.”

“It is being made very hard for us, isn’t it?  And I thought it was going to be so simple.”

“I think we should give him at least a week to simmer down.”