"And so we decided that we must really stop it. People were beginning to complain; and we had one or two—er—regrettable scandals."
With a start Vane woke up from his reverie and realised he had no idea what she was talking about.
"Indeed," he murmured. "Have a salted almond?"
"Don't you think we were right, Captain Vane?" she pursued inexorably. "The men are exposed to so many temptations that the least we can do is to remove those we can."
"But are they exposed to any more now than they were before?" he remarked wearily. "Why not let 'em alone, dear lady, let 'em alone? They deserve it."
At length the ladies rose, and with a sigh of relief Vane sat down next a lawyer whom he knew well.
"You're looking pretty rotten, Derek," he said, looking at Vane critically.
"I've been dining next a woman with a mission," he answered. "And I was nearly drowned in the 'Connaught.'"
The lawyer looked at him keenly. "And the two combined have finished you off."
"Oh! no. I'm reserving my final effort for the third. I'll get that at the Mainwarings'." He lifted his glass and let the ruby light glint through his port. "Why do we struggle, Jimmy? Why, in Heaven's name, does anybody ever do anything but drift? Look at that damned foolishness over the water. . . . The most titanic struggle of the world. And look at the result. . . . Anarchy, rebellion, strife. What's the use; tell me that, my friend, what's the use? And the little struggles—the personal human struggles—are just as futile. . . ."