"I daresay," he said. "But can't break Stafford. Honestly "—he looked at her—"I wish you could!"
"Why?" she asked, turning her eyes on him for the first time.
Howard was silent for a moment, then he looked at her with a curious gravity.
"Because it would be good for him: because I am afraid for him."
"Afraid?" she echoed.
"Yes," he said, with a nod. "Some day he will run against something that will bring him to smash. Some woman—But I beg your pardon. Do you know, Miss Falconer, that you have a dangerous way of leading one to speak the truth—which one should never—or very rarely—do. Why, on earth am I telling you all this about Stafford Orme?"
She shrugged her shoulders.
"You were saying 'some woman,'" she said.
He gave a sigh of resignation.
"You are irresistible! Some woman who will be quite unworthy of him. It's always the case. The block of ice you can not smash with your biggest hammer is broken into smithereens by a needle. That's the peril before Stafford—but let us hope he will prove the exception to the rule and escape. He's safe at present, at any rate."