“I have not said so, and I refuse to admit it. That is hereafter to be a forbidden topic, and a redeemed prisoner in charge of his gaoler must not disobey orders. If it were not for me, you would now be in your room moping and meditating on your wickedness. I have wrestled with you as if I were a Salvation lass, and so you should be grateful.”
“Never was a man wallowing in despondency more grateful for the helping hand of a woman enabling him to emerge.”
“It is very generous of you to say that, when it was the helping hand of a woman that pushed you into it.”
“No, it was my own action that sent me there. I doubt if a man ever gets into the Slough of Despond through the efforts of any one else. A lone man blunders blindly along, and the first thing he knows he is head over ears in the mud,—and serve him right, too.”
“Why serve him right?”
“Because he has no business being a lone man. Two heads are better than one; then, if one is making for the ditch, the helping hand of the other restrains.”
“Since when did you arrive at so desperate a conclusion, Mr. Tremorne?”
“Since I met you.”
“Well, it is a blessing there was no one to restrain you to-day, or otherwise somebody might have been shot. There is something to be said for lack of restraint upon occasion.”