"Are you a Puritan may I ask?"
Beecot shook his head and laughed. "I am a simple man, who tries to do his duty in this world," said he, "and who very often finds it difficult to do that same duty."
"How do you define duty, Mr. Beecot?"
"We are becoming ethical," said Paul, with a smile. "I don't know that I am prepared with an answer at present."
"Then the next time we meet. For I hope," said Mrs. Krill, smoothing her face to a smile—it had grown rather sombre—"that we shall often meet again. You must come and see us. We have taken a house in Kensington."
"Chosen by Mr. Hay?"
"Yes! He is our mentor in London Society. I don't think," added Mrs. Krill, studying his face, "that you like Mr. Hay."
"As I am Mr. Hay's guest," said Paul, dryly, "that is rather an unkind question to ask."
"I asked no question. I simply make a statement."
Beecot found the conversation rather embarrassing. In place of his pumping Mrs. Krill, she was trying to pump him, which reversal of his design he by no means approved of. He changed the subject of conversation by drawing a powerfully attractive red herring across the trail. "You wish to speak to me about Miss Norman," he remarked.