"She is none of mine; she is one of our party."
"How many in all?"
"I am sick of your questions. Here is the plain truth. I am travelling with my brother and his wife. They are on their honeymoon. There, you have the whole thing in a nutshell."
"Apparently. But how about the kernel? I have an odd idea there is a maggot inside. How arrived at? Easily. It is you yourself who have engendered the suspicion. You come to this spot to think and smoke, leaving your brother and his bride to their honeymooning. That is considerate, and as a tender-souled man I commend you for it. You believe yourself to be alone, but I am here, communing with Nature. Looking up, I see you, and on your face I see that which you would not like your friends to see. There is a convulsive twitch in your features. What is the cause? Do you love your brother's wife?"
"No."
"The tone in which you speak that little word convinces me that you hate her. Do you remember we used to congratulate each other in Australia that we could read men's faces and voices? Why do you hate her? There must be a reason."
"Peterssen, you are going a little too far."
"Between friends? No, Leonard, I have not yet gone far enough. Give ear, Leonard, to something analytical--not very deep, only in a superficial way. You and I are alike in our aims but not in our methods. We are both adventurers--why disguise it? The supreme motive-power in our natures is self-interest. To serve that we would go any lengths--except, perhaps, that I would go a little farther than you. We have no honest regard for each other, it is only our self-interest that draws us together. Why, Leonard, if I could profit largely by it I would have no more compunction in pushing you over that precipice than I have in flinging away this cigar. Give me another, will you? I warrant yours are better than mine. Thank you. And the compunction on your side, should it be to your advantage to serve me the same, would be as small as my own. Commend me for being an honest man, for I take it the quality of sincerity is vital to honesty--and my sincerity cannot be disputed. What reason have you for hating your brother's wife?"
"Could not the agitation you observed in my face spring from some other cause than love or hate?"
"Yes, one--money; and you have proved to me that money is not the cause by paying me the twenty-five pounds so readily. For really it is a debt that I could not have enforced in a court of law."