room, and again Jimmy tried to think
of some way to escape from his present difficulty. It was quite apparent
that his only hope lay not in his own candor, but in Alfred's absence.
"How long do you expect to be away?" he asked.

"Only until I hear from Henri," said Alfred.

"Henri?" repeated Jimmy and again a gleam of hope shone on his dull
features. He had heard that waiters were often to be bribed. "Nice
fellow, Henri," he ventured cautiously. "Gets a large salary, no doubt?"

"Does he!" exclaimed Alfred, with a certain pride of proprietorship. "No
tips could touch Henri, no indeed. He's not that sort of a person."

Again the hope faded from Jimmy's round face.

"I look upon Henri as my friend," continued Alfred enthusiastically. "He
speaks every language known to man. He's been in every country in the
world. HENRI UNDERSTANDS LIFE."

"LOTS of people UNDERSTAND LIFE," commented Jimmy dismally, "but SOME
people don't APPRECIATE it. They value it too lightly, to MY way of
thinking."

"Ah, but you have something to live for," argued Alfred.

"I have indeed; a great deal," agreed Jimmy, more and more abused at the
thought of what he was about to lose.

"Ah, that's different," exclaimed Alfred. "But what have _I_?"

Jimmy was in no frame of mind to consider his young friend's assets, he
was thinking of his own difficulties.

"I'm a laughing stock," shouted Alfred. "I know it. A 'good thing' who
gives his wife everything she asks for, while she is running around
with--with my best friend, for all I know."

"Oh, no, no," protested Jimmy nervously. "I wouldn't say that."

"Even if she weren't running around," continued Alfred excitedly,
without heeding his friend's interruption, "what have we to look forward
to? What have we to look backward to?"

Again Jimmy's face was a blank.

Alfred answered his own question by lifting his arms tragically toward
Heaven. "One eternal round of wrangles and rows! A childless home! Do
you think she wants babies?" he cried, wheeling about on Jimmy, and
daring him to answer in the affirmative. "Oh, no!" he sneered. "All she
wants is a good time."

"Well," mumbled Jimmy, "I can't see much in babies myself, fat, little,
red worms."

Alfred's breath went from him in astonishment

"Weren't YOU ever a fat, little, red worm?" he hissed. "Wasn't _I_
ever a little, fat, red----" he paused in confusion, as his ear became
puzzled by the proper sequence of his adjectives, "a fat, red