"You are disappointed in me?"
"Disappointed?"
"Oh, yes. I seem to you a braggart who has backed out of his boast. Yet I assure you I am not to blame. You seek the one service in the world that I am utterly unable to perform."
"Monsieur," replied the girl coldly, "your parental duties are so obviously paramount that it is unnecessary to remind me of them."
"Oh, as to that, one does not expect more than a scratch in a duel, so it is not from parental reasons that I say it can't be done. The reasons are physical. I cannot meet monsieur Vance because ... I shall sink lower in your esteem with every word ... I cannot meet him because ... enfin, Valentin Vance is I!"
"You?" She had started to her feet.
"My pen name."
The silence was awful. She leant on the back of the chair for support. Then, with a dignity that he felt to be superb, she said:
"Monsieur, as a tenant I thank you for your co-operation; as a communist, I ask permission to retire."
"Ah, I implore you to listen!" raved Pariset.