"Peculiar?—I understand. You don't find her very communicative. But I'm sure you'll make allowance for the difficulty of—"
"Oh, I make all allowances," interrupted May, with her smile of superiority. "And of course Miss Bride's affairs don't in the least concern me."
"Except I hope in so far as they concern me."
Dyce spoke with insinuating humour. Both hands resting on his umbrella handle, he held himself very upright, and looked May steadily in the face. She, as though challenged, straightened herself and met his look.
"I should be sorry to see your career spoilt," she said, with rather excessive dignity. "But you will admit that you have acted, to say the least, imprudently."
"It looks so. You think I should have had more courage. But you will see that it's not too late."
Speaking, he watched her face. He saw her lips twitch, and her eyes stray.
"You know," he pursued, "that I aim high."
Her look fell.
"But no man can do without help. The strong man is he who knows how to choose his helper, and at the right moment. I am at a crisis of my life, and—it is to you that I turn."