"The majority of your better people have managed not to know me. I've met a lot of men of sorts, but they draw the line across their home thresholds—most of them. Is it the taint of vaudeville that their wives sniff at, or my rather celebrated indigence?"
"Both, Dankmere—and then some."
"Oh, I see. Many thanks for telling me. I take it you mean that it was my first wife they shy at."
Quarren remained silent.
"She was a bar-maid," remarked the Earl. "We were quite happy—until she died."
Quarren made a slight motion of comprehension.
"Of course my marrying her damned us both," observed the Earl.
"Of course."
"Quite so. People would have stood for anything else.... But she wouldn't—you may think it odd.... And I was in love—so there you are."
For a while they smoked in the semi-darkness without exchanging further speech; and finally Dankmere knocked out his pipe, pocketed it, and put on his hat.