"Speaking of women, my dear Archie, do you share the joy of the lyric poets in the species?"
"Women?" gulped Archie, as surprised as though he had been asked suddenly his opinion of the gazella dorcas.
"The same, Archie. It occurs to me that you have probably had many affairs. A fellow of your coolness and dash couldn't fail to appeal to the incomprehensible sex. I'm thirty-four but I've loved only one woman—that's the solemn truth, Archie. Occasionally small indiscretions, I confess; and I sometimes weakly yield to the temptation to flirt, but with my hand on my heart I declare solemnly that only once have I ever been swayed by the grand passion. And strange as it may seem she's a bishop's daughter, though a saint in her own right! O wonderful! O sublime!"
This confidence, vague as to the identity and habitat of the lady of the Governor's adoration, nevertheless made it incumbent upon Archie to make some sort of reply. The Governor would probably be disappointed in him if he confessed the meagerness of his experiences, and he felt that it would be a grave error to jeopardize his standing with his companion.
"Well, I'm in the same boat," he answered glibly. "There's only one girl for me!"
"Magnificent!" cried the Governor. "I hope she's not beyond your reach like my goddess?"
"Well, I'll hardly say that," Archie replied. "But there are difficulties, embarrassments, you know."
"Possibly your choice of the open road as a career is a bar to marriage? Such situations are always deplorable."
"It is quite the other way round with me," Archie protested. "It was she who put me up to it!"
"What! Your inamorata wanted you to be a crook?" cried the Governor. "She must be a wonderful girl! Shoplifter, perhaps? There are some jolly girls in that business! Or, maybe she's one of these confidence women who play a sure game and usually get by with it?"