There was a new and startling note of assurance in his voice.  Certainly he had developed during the past few months.  What I had done, Heaven only knows.  Misfortune, which is supposed to be formative of character, seemed to have turned mine into pie.  How can I otherwise account for my not checking the lunatic impulse that prompted my next words.

“Well, something has happened,” said I, “and if we’re to be friends, you had better know it.  Two days ago, for the first time, I told Madame Brandt that I loved her.  This very afternoon I went to get her answer to my question—­would she marry me?—­and I found that she had disappeared without leaving any address behind her.  So whenever you hear her name mentioned you can just tell everybody that she’s the one woman in the whole wide world I want to marry.”

“Poor old Simon,” said Dale.  “Poor old chap.”

“That’s exactly how things stand.”

“Lord, who would have thought it?”

“How I’ve borne with you talking about her all this evening the devil only knows,” I cried.  “You’ve driven me half crazy.”

“You should have told me to shut up.”

“I did.”

“Poor old Simon.  I’m so sorry—­but I had no idea you had fallen in love with her.”

“Fallen in love!” said I, losing my head.  “She’s the only woman on God’s earth I’ve ever cared for.  I want her as I’ve wanted nothing in the universe before.”

“And you’ve come to care for her as much as that?” he said sympathetically.  “Poor old Simon.”

“Why the devil shouldn’t I?” I shouted, nettled by his “poor old Simons.”

“Lola Brandt is hardly of your class,” said Dale.

I broke out furiously.  “Damn class!  I’ve had enough of it.  I’m going to take my life into my own hands and do what I like with it.  I’m going to choose my mate without any reference to society.  I’ve cut myself adrift from society.  It can go hang.  Lola Brandt is a woman worth any man’s loving.  She is a woman in a million.  You know nothing whatever about her.”

The last words were scarcely out of my mouth when an echo from the distance came and, as it were, banged at my ears.  Dale himself had shrieked them at me in exactly the same tone with reference to the same woman.  I stopped short and looked at him for a moment rather stupidly.  Then the imp of humour, who for some time had deserted me, flew to my side and tickled my brain.  I broke into a chuckle, somewhat hysterical I must admit, and then, throwing myself into an arm-chair, gave way to uncontrollable laughter.

The scare of the unexpected rose in Dale’s eyes.

“Why, what on earth is the matter?”

“Can’t you see?” I cried, as far as the paroxysms of my mirth would let me.  “Can’t you see how exquisitely ludicrous the whole thing has been from beginning to end?  Don’t you realise that you and I are playing the same scene as we played months ago in my library, with the only difference that we have changed roles?  I’m the raving, infatuated youth, and you’re the grave and reverend mentor.  Don’t you see?  Don’t you see?”