Malcourt looked at him thoughtfully.  “Hamil, do you know, I’ve always liked you a damn sight better than you’ve liked me.”

Hamil said, laughing outright:  “I never saw very much of you to like or dislike.”

Malcourt smiled, stretched his limbs lazily, and lighted a cigarette.

“As a matter of fact,” he said, “you think I’m worse than I am, but I know you are worse than you think, because I couldn’t even secretly feel friendly toward a prig.  You’ve had a less battered career than I; you are, in consequence, less selfish, less ruthless, less cynical concerning traditions and illusions.  You’ve something left to stick to; I haven’t.  You are a little less intelligent than I, and therefore possess more natural courage and credulity.  Outside of these things we are more or less alike, Hamil.  Hope you don’t mind my essay on man.”

“No,” said Hamil, vastly amused.

“The trouble with me,” continued Malcourt, “is that I possess a streak of scientific curiosity that you lack; which is my eternal undoing and keeps me poor and ignobly busy.  I ought to have leisure; the world should see to it that I have sufficient leisure and means to pursue my studies in the interest of social economy.  Take one of my favourite experiments, for example.  I see a little ball rattling around in a wheel.  Where will that ball stop?  You, being less intellectual than I, don’t care where it stops. I do.  Instantly my scientific curiosity is aroused; I reason logically; I evolve an opinion; I back that opinion; and I remain busy and poor.  I see a pretty woman.  Is she responsive or unresponsive to intelligently expressed sentiment?  I don’t know. You don’t care. I do.  My curiosity is piqued.  She becomes to me an abstract question which scientific experiment alone can elucidate—­”

Hamil, leaning on the footboard of the bed, laughed and straightened up.

“All right, Malcourt, if you think it worth while—­”

“What pursuit, if you please, is worthier than logical and scientific investigations?”

“Make a lot of honest money and marry some nice girl and have horses and dogs and a bully home and kids.  Look here, as Wayward says, you’re not the devilish sort you pretend to be.  You’re too young for one thing.  I never knew you to do a deliberately ungenerous act—­”

“Like most rascals I’m liable to sentimental generosity in streaks?  Thanks.  But, somehow, I’m so damned intelligent that I can never give myself any credit for relapsing into traditional virtues.  Impulse is often my executive officer; and if I were only stupid I’d take great comfort out of it.”

Hamil walked toward the door, stopping on the threshold to say:  “Well, I’ll tell you one thing, Malcourt; I’ve often disliked you at times; but I don’t now.  And I don’t exactly know why.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Oh, because you’ve forgiven me.  Also—­you think I’ve a better side.”