eyes of the two men met; Jimmy flushed scarlet.

"It's the truth," he said. "I think, ever since I knew that she--that
she had tried to get rid of me----" He stopped painfully. "It makes
me wonder if I ever--ever really, you know."

"We all make mistakes--bad mistakes," said Sangster kindly.

Jimmy smiled a little.

"You old philosopher . . . I don't believe you've ever cared a hang
for a woman in all your life."

"Oh, yes I have." Sangster's eyes were staring past Jimmy, down the
little room.

"Really?" Jimmy was faintly incredulous. "Who was she--wouldn't she
have you?"

"I never asked her, and she is married now--to another man."

"A decent fellow?"

There was a little silence, then:

"I think he'll turn out all right," said Sangster quietly. "I hope so."

CHAPTER XVI

THE PAST RETURNS

Christine had learned a great deal since her marriage. As she stood on
the platform at Euston that morning with Jimmy Challoner she felt old
enough to be the grandmother of the girl who had looked up at him with
such glad recognition less than a month ago in the theatre.

Old enough, and sad enough.

She could not bear to look at him now. It cut her to the heart to see
the listless droop of his shoulders and the haggard lines of his face.
It was not for her--his sorrow; that was the thought she kept steadily
before her eyes; it was not because he had offended and hurt her past
forgiveness; but because Cynthia Farrow was now only a name and a
memory.

The train was late in starting. Jimmy stood on the platform trying to
make conversation; he had bought a pile of magazines and a box of
chocolates which lay disregarded beside Christine on the seat; he had
ordered luncheon for her, although she protested again and again that
she should not eat anything.

He racked his brains to think if there were any other little service he
could do for her. He was full of remorse and shame as he stood there.

She had been so fond of him--she had meant to be so happy; and now she
was glad to be leaving him.

The guard blew his whistle. Jimmy turned hastily, the blood rushing to
his white face.

"If you ever want me, Christine----" She seemed not to be listening,
and he broke off, only to stumble on again: "Try and forgive me--try
not to think too hardly of me." She looked at him then; her beautiful
eyes were hard and unyielding.

The train had begun to move slowly from the platform. Jimmy was on the
foot