e to blue, but--thoughts of
Cynthia came crowding back again. If only he were with her instead of
this girl; if only---- Christine touched his arm.

"Oh, Jimmy, look! Isn't that--isn't that Miss Farrow?"

Her voice was excited. She was looking eagerly across the grass to
where a woman and a man were walking together beneath the trees.

Jimmy's heart leapt to his throat; for a moment it seemed to stop
beating.

Yes, it was Cynthia right enough; Cynthia with no trace of the headache
with which she had excused herself to him only that morning; Cynthia
walking with--with Henson Mortlake.

Christine spoke again, breathlessly.

"Is it? Oh, is it Miss Farrow, Jimmy?"

"Yes," said Jimmy hoarsely.

Cynthia had turned now. She and the man at her side were walking back
towards Jimmy and Christine.

As they drew nearer Cynthia's eyes swept the eager face and slim figure
of the girl at Jimmy's side. There was the barest flicker of her lids
before she raised them and smiled and bowed.

Jimmy raised his hat. He was very pale; his mouth was set in unsmiling
lines.

"Oh, she is lovely!" said Christine eagerly. "I think she is even
prettier off the stage than she is on, don't you? Actresses so seldom
are, but she--oh, don't you think she is beautiful, Jimmy?"

"Yes," said Challoner. He hated himself because he could get nothing
out but that monosyllable; hated himself because of the storm of
emotion the sight of Cynthia had roused in his heart.

She had looked calm and serene enough; he wondered bitterly if she ever
thought of the hours they had spent together, the times he had kissed
her, the future they had planned. He set his teeth hard.

And apparently the fact that her husband still lived was no barrier to
her walking with Mortlake. He hated the little bounder. He----

"Who was that with her?" Christine asked. "I didn't like the look of
him very much. I do hope she isn't going to marry him."

"She's married already," said Jimmy. He felt a sort of impatience with
Christine; she was so--so childish, so--so immaturish, he thought.

"And do you know her husband?" she asked. She turned her beautiful
eyes to his pale face.

"I've never seen him," said Jimmy. "But I should think he's a brute
from what I've heard about him. He--he--oh, he treated her rottenly."

"What a shame!" Christine half turned and looked after Cynthia Farrow's
retreating figure. "Jimmy, wouldn't you be proud of such a beauti