ou're another," said Luke. "Oh, Jona. There's something I've been
trying to ask you for the last ten months, and perhaps there will
never be another opportunity. Do you remember when you came to my
office?"

She drove her elbow lightly into his ribs. It seemed to him to signify
she did remember.

"There were things you said--'Will you help yourself,' with your hands
out--'magnet and tin-tack'--'I made a mistake once.' You said those
things, Jona."

"What a memory the young man has got," said Jona, wistfully.

"Yes, but what did you mean?"

"Well, they were what is called conversation. You talk too, you know,
sometimes."

"But that doesn't tell me what you meant."

"They meant," she said in a plain, matter-of-fact way, "that I ought
not to have married Bill. I ought to have married you, Lukie. My
mistake entirely. Don't apologize."

She jerked herself backward, and he fell off the tree. He lay on the
grass moaning. "O crikey! O crikey! O crikey, crikey, crikey!"

2

He got up slowly. He was entirely covered with small pieces of dried
grass. Jona came round the end of the tree and began picking pieces of
grass off him.

"You're in a mess," she said.

"We're both in a mess," he said. "Right in. Up to the neck."

"I don't know how much longer I shall be able to stand it," said Jona.
"In London it was actresses. Down here it's ladies from the Mammoth
Circus. We have three equestriennes and a tight-rope dancer staying
with us, and he makes love to them all. He's not been sober--not
noticeably--for the last six weeks. I still keep up the bright
badinage, but it sometimes seems artificial. It's wearing thin.
Everything's wearing thin. Very thin. Oh Lukie!"

"Listen," said Luke resolutely. "I'm going to be noble. This is little
Lukie, underneath his straw hat, being noble. Some men would confess
their love for you. They would pour out in words the passion that was
consuming them. I shall not. In fact, you'll have to guess. Only, if
the time ever does come that you simply cannot stand it any longer,
apply to me. Applications should be sent to the office address in care
of Mabel. Write distinctly. Good-by, Jona."

He tore himself from her, and reeled away, not knowing what direction
he was taking.

After an hour he found himself standing in front of his own office.
It was just as well. He had left his bicycle there.

Diggle came down the stairs into the street, and Luke walked up to him
at once: "Can I ha