holding out his hand to help her to alight.

They went into the hotel together, and for a moment Jimmy left her
alone in the wide, empty lounge while he went to make arrangements for
her.

She looked round her dully. The old depression she had known when last
she was in London returned. She hated the silence of the lounge; even
the doors seemed to shut noiselessly, and everywhere the carpets were
so thick that footsteps were muffled.

Jimmy came back. He seemed to avoid her eyes.

"I have taken rooms for you; I think you will be comfortable. Will
you--will you go up now? I have ordered supper; it will be ready in
fifteen minutes. I will wait here."

Christine obeyed wearily. She went up in the lift feeling lonely and
depressed. A kind-faced maid met her on the first landing. She went
with Christine into her bedroom; she unpacked her bag and made the room
comfortable for her; she talked away cheerily, almost as if she guessed
what a sore heart the girl carried with her. Christine felt a little
comforted as she went downstairs again.

It was nearly eleven o'clock. A few people were having supper in the
room to which she was directed. Jimmy was there waiting for her.

They sat down together almost silently.

"A second honeymoon!" Gladys Leighton's words came back to Christine
with a sort of mockery.

She looked at her husband. He was pale and silent. He only made a
pretence of eating; they were both glad when the meal was over.

There was a moment of awkwardness when they rose from the table.

"I am tired," Christine said when he asked if she would care to go to
the drawing-room for a little while. "I should like to go to bed."

"Very well." Jimmy held out his hand. "Good night." He looked at her
and quickly away again. "I will come round in the morning."

She raised startled eyes to his face.

"You are not staying here then?"

He coloured a little.

"No; I thought you would prefer that I did not. I shall be at my
rooms--if you want me."

"Very well." She just touched the tips of his fingers. The next
moment she was walking alone up the wide staircase.

She never slept all night. Though she had felt tired at the end of her
journey, she never once closed her eyes now.

She wished she had not come. She hated Jimmy for having persuaded her;
she hated Gladys for having practically told her that it was her duty
to do as he wished; she hated Jimmy afresh because now, having got her