“It depends upon the man—­and also the woman,” said I, beginning to derive peculiar torture from the conversation.

Dale shook his wise head.  “It never comes off,” said he.  After a pause he laughed aloud.  “Don’t you remember the lecture you gave me?  My word, you did talk!  You produced a string of ghastly instances where the experiment had failed.  Let me see, who was there, Paget, Merridew, Bullen.  Ha!  Ha!  No, I’m well out of it, old chap—­thanks to you.”

“If any good has come of this sorry business,” said I gravely, “I’m only too grateful to Providence.”

He caught the seriousness of my tone.

“I didn’t want to touch on that side of it,” he said awkwardly.  “I know what an infernal time you had!  It must have been Gehenna.  I realise now that it was on my account, and so I can never do enough to show my gratitude.”

He finished his glass of whisky and walked about the tiny room.

“What has always licked me,” he said at length, “is why she never told me she was married.  It’s so curious, for she was as straight as they make them.  It’s devilish odd!”

“Yes,” I assented wearily, for every word of this talk was a new pain.  “Devilish odd!”

“I suppose it’s a question of class again.”

“Or sex,” said I.

“What has sex to do with being straight?”

“Everything,” said I.

“Rot!” said Dale.

I sighed.  “I wish your dialectical vocabulary were not so limited.”

He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder.

“Still the same old Simon.  It does my heart good to hear you.  May I have another whisky?”

I took advantage of this break to change the conversation.  He had told me nothing of his own affairs save that he was engaged to Maisie Ellerton.

“Heavens!” cried he.  “Isn’t that enough?”

“An engagement isn’t an occupation.”

“Isn’t it, by Jove?” He laughed boyishly.  “I manage, however, to squeeze in a bit of work now and then.  The mater has always got plenty on hand for me, and I do things for Raggles.  He has been awfully decent.  The first time I met him or any of the chiefs after the election I was in a blue funk.  But no one seemed to blame me; they all said they were sorry; and now Raggles is looking out for a constituency for me to nurse for the next General Election.  Then things will hum, I promise you!”

He waved his cigar with the air of a young paladin about to conquer the world.  In spite of my own depression, I could not help smiling with gladness at the sight of him.  With his extravagantly cut waistcoat, his elaborately exquisite white tie, his perfectly fitting evening clothes, with his supple ease of body, his charming manner, the preposterous fellow made as gallant a show as any ruffling blade in powder and red-heeled shoes.  He had acquired, too, an extra touch of manhood since I had seen him last.  I felt proud of him, conscious that to the making of him I had to some small degree contributed.