"Fancy asking a woman to be reasonable! Don't you realise, you stupid man, that if you were at liberty to tell everybody what it is that you do there, well, then I should have no more interest in it?
It is just because you say that you will not and you may not tell, that, womanlike, I am curious." "But whatever good could it be to you to know ?" he protested.

"I should simply addle your head with a mass of technical detail, not a quarter of which you would be able to understand.

Besides, I have told you, Bertha, it is a matter of honour." She looked intently at her programme.
"There are men," she murmured, "who love so much that even honour counts for little by the side of--" "Of what ?" he whispered hoarsely.
"Of success." For a moment they sat in silence.

The place was not particularly hot, yet there were little beads of perspiration upon Baring's forehead.

The fingers which held his programme twitched.