"Good Lord, no!" cried Beresford, sitting up as if the idea had startled him.
"Well, there's a lot to be said for celibacy."
"Don't be an ass," growled Beresford. "You know I don't mean that."
"Sometimes it's a little difficult to discover exactly what you do mean," said Tallis with a smile.
"She thinks me different from other men"
"She always does," drily.
Beresford walked over to the fireplace and, with unnecessary vigour, proceeded to knock the ashes out of his pipe. Returning to his chair he reached for the tobacco-jar.
"I don't want her to think" he began as he proceeded mechanically to fill his pipe, then he stopped.
"That you're after the money," suggested Tallis. "Couldn't you somehow manage to convey to her that she, and not her millions, is 'the goods'?"
"No, I can't, and what's more, I won't," snapped Beresford irritably.
"That ten-foot pole again, young fellow," smiled Tallis. "You're going to sacrifice your only chance of happiness for an abstract code of honour. Well, it's your funeral; but I'm sorry. What's it to be?"
"There are always the tablets," said Beresford grimly.
"Yes, there are always the tablets; but somehow I don't think that would be the way to her heart."
"What do you mean?" demanded Beresford quickly.
