"If you think a moment," he said, gently, "you will see that it is all fair—a challenge given—to a tournament—on certain lines—given and seriously taken up. I suppose the laws of knightly warfare hardly apply to a lady, and that your word must he my law, but still you will admit that to draw back would seem"
"Well?"
"Forgive me, but wouldn't it seem a little like a confession of cowardice?"
Elsie flushed, and her eyes gleamed; and a spirit of recklessness took possession of her. "Very well; whatever I am, I am not a coward, and I am not in the least afraid of you, Mr. Blake."
He bowed. "That I can perfectly understand. It is I who have cause to be afraid."
"Why shouldn't we play the game, since it amuses you and it amuses me—since it is a case of hearts not in it?"
"Why not indeed?" he answered. "It seems to me that one of the objects of living at all is that one may cram as many experiences as one can into the few years in which experience can be enjoyed. You are fond of drama, Miss Valliant, so am I. You don't get the sort of drama we should enjoy (on the Australian stage it is too crude—too much of the blood and thunder, 'Unhand me, villain' sentiment)—not complex enough for people who by right of nature belong to an advanced civilization. We don't get an advanced civilization out here, do we? and so we must make our own drama. I am quite certain that one in which you played the principal part would be bound to be exciting."
"Thank you."
"And then," he went on, "you like making experiments in human chemistry, and so do I. You remember that book you were reading the day we first met. Experiments in a laboratory are sometimes dangerous. Experiments in human chemistry may be much more dangerous. But I never really cared for anything in which there was no danger. I perfectly realize the danger in this case. ... Here come
