"In the story Stephanie told me your name was not mentioned. Moreover, you'll remember that you trimmed Murchison, while I did for Porshinger."
"I don't like it—I mean this invitation. The women are lending themselves to—placate the rotten beast."
"Nor I," Pendleton returned; "but just because Stephanie is involved, I dare not protest. Gladys says Porshinger is going to get in anyway—it is only a matter of a short time, and that the end justifies the means. I made light to Stephanie of their apprehension, but nevertheless it is serious. It was a grievous blunder to begin that fight—and Porshinger knows he can even up with us best, and hurt us most, by injuring Stephanie. If he can knife me also, so much the better."
"I don't like it!" Burgoyne reiterated.
"On the other hand," Pendleton continued, "Stephanie says, and Gladys supports her in it, that if she is nice to him, in an ordinary acquaintance way, he may get a change of heart."
"I doubt it."
"So do I—but she has the right to her opinion and to act on it."
"More than likely she will only injure herself by being nice to the cur," said Burgoyne. "Are you sure she isn't doing this on your account, Pendleton?"
"No, I'm not sure," he answered. "I've tried to disabuse her mind of the notion that he can hurt me, but I don't know how successful I've been."
"Hum!" Burgoyne thought. "You never can tell what fool ideas a woman has—when she cares for a man."