"Oh, _that's_ it! I didn't know you had such a tender conscience.

You scared me for a minute, I should think you would know by this time that you can't phase me with your wicked tongue." The novelist's face twisted into a grotesque smile.

"I warn you--I will flay you and your friends just the same.

You need it for the good of your soul." "As often and as hard as you like"-- returned the other, heartily--"just so it's for the good of my soul.

You will come ?" "You will permit me to stand my share of the expense ?" "Anything you like--if you will only come." The older man said gently,--for the first time calling the artist by his given name,--"Aaron, I believe that you are the only person in the world who would, really want me; and I _know_ that you are the only person in the world to whom I would be grateful for such an invitation." The artist was about to reply, when the big automobile stopped in front of the house.