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 cowed Hammond. She saw Angus and his companion, and stopped.

“There, Malcolm Crane—there’s Angus Burke. Say it to him if you dare,” she said.

Crane halted, fists doubled, gave back a step. Angus’s companion watched him; it was a climax, a test. How would her friend come through an ordeal such as this, an ordeal which would call out the worst, or bring into play the finest qualities of a gentleman? Angus spoke, slowly, seriously, his voice low, almost gentle.

“No, Lydia,” he said, “he mustn’t say it here. We—we must pretend he hasn’t—said anything here—or that I’ve heard….”

“I don't care—” Lydia began passionately.

“Please, Lydia,” said Angus. He turned to Crane. “Just go away,” he said.

Lydia hesitated, looked angrily at Angus and felt her eyes imprisoned, felt herself mastered by the strength of him…. She turned abruptly and walked away. Crane and Hammond were glad to follow her…. Angus drew a deep breath. The girl touched Angus’s arm and he looked down into her face.

“Mr. Burke,” she said tremulously, “that was fine—a fine thing to do—and you—it was the way a gentleman should act.”

Suddenly there was a tossing and jumbling of paper lanterns; a string had broken, and a dozen