he said, raised his hat, and walked away. She spoke,
but he did not catch what she said. He was saying to himself: "Pluck
indeed!" (He did not like her accusation.) "Pluck indeed! Of all the
damned cheek!... We might all have been killed--or worse. The least she
could have done was to apologize. But no! Pluck indeed! Women oughtn't
to be allowed to drive. It's too infernally silly for words."

He glanced backward. The chauffeur had started the car again, and was
getting in by Lois's side. Doubtless he was a fatalist by profession.
She drove off.

"Yes!" thought George. "And you'd drive home yourself now even if you
knew for certain you'd have an accident. You're just that stupid kind."

The car looked superb as it drew away, and she reclined in the driver's
seat with a superb effrontery. George was envious; he was pierced by
envy. He hated that other people, and especially girls, should command
luxuries which he could not possess. He hated that violently. "You
wait!" he said to himself. "You wait! I'll have as good a car as that,
and a finer girl than you in it. And she won't want to drive either.
You wait." He was more excited than he knew by the episode.

CHAPTER V

THE TEA

I

"Tea is ready, Mr. Cannon," said Mr. Haim in his most courteous style,
coming softly into George's room. And George looked up at the old man's
wrinkled face, and down at his crimson slippers, with the benevolent air
of a bookworm permitting himself to be drawn away from an ideal world
into the actual. Glasses on the end of George's nose would have set off
the tableau, but George had outgrown the spectacles which had disfigured
his boyhood. As a fact, since his return that afternoon from Mrs.
John's, he had, to the detriment of modesty and the fostering of
conceit, accomplished some further study for the Final, although most of
the time had been spent in dreaming of women and luxury.

"All right," said he. "I'll come."

"I don't think that lamp's been very well trimmed to-day," said Mr. Haim
apologetically, sniffing.

"Does it smell?"

"Well, I do notice a slight odour."

"I'll open the window," said George heartily. He rose, pulled the
curtains, and opened the front French window with a large gesture. The
wild, raw, damp air of Sunday night rushed in from the nocturnal Grove,
and instantly extinguished the lamp.

"Oh!" exclaimed Mr. Haim, rather nervously.

"Saved me the trouble," said George.

As he emerged after M