lay?"

It was a ghastly effort to talk. He wondered if they would notice how
strange his manner was.

"Immensely," Mrs. Wyatt told him. "I've heard so much about Cynthia
Farrow, but never seen her before. She certainly is splendid."

"She's the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," said Christine.

Challoner shot her a grateful look. Most women were cats and never had
a word of praise for one of their own sex. He felt slightly comforted.

"If you've nothing better to do, Jimmy," said Mrs. Wyatt, "won't you
come back to the hotel and have some supper with us? We are only up in
town for a fortnight. Do come if you can."

Challoner said he would be delighted. He was very young in some ways.
He had not the smallest intention of calling on Cynthia that night. He
wished savagely that she could know what he was doing; know that in
spite of everything he was not breaking his heart for her.

She was with that brute Mortlake; well, he was not going to spend the
next hour or two alone with only his thoughts for company.

He wondered where Cynthia had gone, and if she had known all along that
Mortlake was calling for her. He ground his teeth.

The two women were talking together. They did not seem to notice his
silence. Christine's voice reminded him a little of Cynthia's; a
sudden revulsion of feeling flooded his heart.

Poor darling! all this was not her fault. No doubt she was just as
miserable as he. He longed to go to her. He wished he had not
accepted the Wyatts' invitation. He felt that it was heartless of him
to have done so. He would have excused himself even now if the taxi
had not already started.

Mrs. Wyatt turned to him. "I suppose you are very fond of theatres?"

"Yes--no--yes, I mean; I go to heaps." He wondered if his reply
sounded very foolish and absent-minded. He rushed on to cover it.
"I've seen this particular play a dozen times; it's a great favourite
of mine. I--I'm very keen on it."

"I think it is lovely," said Christine dreamily.

She was leaning back beside him in the corner. He could only see her
white-gloved hands clasped in the lap of her frock.

"You must let me take you to some," he said. He had a rotten feeling
that if he stopped talking for a minute he would make a fool of
himself. "I often get passes for first nights and things," he rambled
on.

Christine sat up. "Do you! oh, how lovely! I should love to go!
Jimmy, do you--do you know any people on t