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 believe it of Scott, and I think Louie has the right idea. People are like children, and Scott’s poor and proud. I think Louie’s chiffonier would go to his heart, if Louie offered it to him. I’m afraid you wouldn’t do it very graciously.”

“Professor, I’ll go to McGregor’s office and put it up to him. If he scorns it, so much the worse for him. He’ll lose a very handy piece of furniture.”

Rosamond’s paleness changed to red. Fortunately they were spinning over the gravel loops that led through shaven turf to the Country Club. “You can do as you like with your own things, Louie. But I don’t want any of mine in the McGregors’ bungalow. I know Scott’s brand of humour too well, and the kind of jokes that would be made about them.”

The car stopped. Louie sprang out and gave his arm to his wife. He walked up the steps to the door with her, and his back expressed such patient, protecting kindness that the Professor bit his lower lip with indignation. Louie came back looking quite grey and tired, and sank into the seat beside the Professor with a sadder-and-wiser smile.

“Louie,” St. Peter spoke with deep feeling, “do you happen to have read a novel of Henry James, The American? There’s a rather nice scene in it, in which a young Frenchman, hurt in a duel, apologizes for the behaviour of his family. I’d like to do something of the sort. I apologize to you for