And seeing his utter abjectness, Iglesias' heart went out to the unhappy man in immense and unqualified pity.
"I am grieved," he said gently, "if I have pained you unnecessarily. But truly I have sprung nothing upon you. How could I do so? I know nothing whatever of your circumstances save that which you yourself have told me during the last hour."
"Then why did you ask that question about—about her?"
"Because," Dominic answered, "I am ready to fight for you, in as far as you will allow me to do so; but I do not fight against women."
"You must have had uncommonly little experience of them then," Smyth answered with a sneer.
To this observation Mr. Iglesias deemed it superfluous to make any answer. A silence followed. The restaurant was empty, but for the waiters, who stood in a little knot about the door amusing themselves by watching the movement of the street. Looking round to make sure no one was within hearing, Smyth rose unsteadily to his feet.
"You meant what you said just now, Mr. Iglesias—that you were ready to fight for me?" he asked ungently yet cringingly.
"Certainly I meant it," Dominic replied, "the proviso I have made being respected."
"Yes, yes, of course—but what do you understand by fighting for me? Money?"
Dominic had risen, too. He remained for a moment in thought.