“They did.”

“They DID? Was you there?”

“Yes.”

“What for? I thought you swore never to go nigh a woman again.”

“I did, but—well, it wasn't my fault. I—”

“Yes? Go on.”

“I went because I couldn't help myself. Went to help some one else, in fact. I expected to find Graham and that other artist. But—”

“Well, go ON.”

“I was stung,” said Mr. Brown, gloomily, and rubbed his forehead.

[ [!-- H2 anchor --] ]