ike opals?"

"They're all right."

"Only all right?"

"Well, I think they're a bit like soapsuds."

"I'm sorry," said Maurice, "I've bought you opals for a birthday
present."

"I do like them," she explained, "only they're unlucky."

"Not if you're an October girl. They're very lucky then."

They were walking through jostling crowds down Coventry Street towards
the Cafe de l'Afrique where Castleton would meet them to discuss a
project of gayety. Jenny's soft hand on his arm was not successful in
banishing the aggrieved notes from Maurice's petulant defense of opals.

"Oh, you miserable old thing!" she said. "Don't look so cross."

"It's a little disappointing to choose a present and then be told by the
person it's intended for that she dislikes it."

"Oh, don't be silly. I never said I didn't like it. How could I? I
haven't seen it yet."

"It's hardly worth while showing it to you. You won't like it. I'd
throw it in the gutter, if it wasn't for this beastly crowd of fools
that will bump into us all the time."

"You are stupid. Give it to me. Please, Maurice."

"No, I'll get you something else," he retorted, determined to be
injured. "I'm sorry I can't afford diamonds. I took a good deal of
trouble to find you something old and charming. I ransacked every
curiosity shop in London. That's why I couldn't meet you till to-night.
Damned lot of use it's been. I'd much better have bought you a turquoise
beetle with pink topaz eyes or a lizard in garnets or a dragon-fly that
gave you quite a turn, it was so like a real one, or a----"

"Oh, shut up," said Jenny, withdrawing her arm.

"It's so frightfully disheartening."

"But what are you making yourself miserable over? I haven't said I don't
like your present. I haven't seen it."

"No, and you never will. Rotten thing!"

"You are unkind."

"So are you."

"Oh, good job."

"You're absolutely heartless. I don't believe you care a bit about me. I
wish to God I'd never met you. I can't think about anything but you. I
can't work. What's the good of being in love? It's a fool's game. It's
unsettling. It's hopeless. I think I won't see you any more after
to-night. I can't stand it."

Jenny had listened to his tirade without interruption; but now as they
were passing the Empire, she stopped suddenly, and said in a voice cold
and remote:

"Good night. I'm off."

"But we're going to meet Castleton."

"You may be. I'm not."

"What excuse shall I make to