nered, he slipped an arm around her. But she shook him off.

"I meant to tell you, honey; but you got sick. Anyhow, I--I hated to
tell you, honey."

He had furnished the flat for her. There was a comfortable feeling of
coming home about going there again. And, now that the worst minute of
their meeting was over, he was visibly happier. But Grace continued to
stand eyeing him somberly.

"I've got something to tell you," she said. "Don't have a fit, and don't
laugh. If you do, I'll--I'll jump out of the window. I've got a place in
a store. I'm going to be straight, Palmer."

"Good for you!"

He meant it. She was a nice girl and he was fond of her. The other was
a dog's life. And he was not unselfish about it. She could not belong to
him. He did not want her to belong to any one else.

"One of the nurses in the hospital, a Miss Page, has got me something to
do at Lipton and Homburg's. I am going on for the January white sale. If
I make good they will keep me."

He had put her aside without a qualm; and now he met her announcement
with approval. He meant to let her alone. They would have a holiday
together, and then they would say good-bye. And she had not fooled him.
She still cared. He was getting off well, all things considered. She
might have raised a row.

"Good work!" he said. "You'll be a lot happier. But that isn't any
reason why we shouldn't be friends, is it? Just friends; I mean that.
I would like to feel that I can stop in now and then and say how do you
do."

"I promised Miss Page."

"Never mind Miss Page."

The mention of Sidney's name brought up in his mind Christine as he had
left her that morning. He scowled. Things were not going well at home.
There was something wrong with Christine. She used to be a good sport,
but she had never been the same since the day of the wedding. He thought
her attitude toward him was one of suspicion. It made him uncomfortable.
But any attempt on his part to fathom it only met with cold silence.
That had been her attitude that morning.

"I'll tell you what we'll do," he said. "We won't go to any of the old
places. I've found a new roadhouse in the country that's respectable
enough to suit anybody. We'll go out to Schwitter's and get some dinner.
I'll promise to get you back early. How's that?"

In the end she gave in. And on the way out he lived up to the letter of
their agreement. The situation exhilarated him: Grace with her new air
of virtue, her new aloofne