nd held her hand the space of a
second. 'I love my love with a V . . .' he began, looking up at her, his
blue eyes shining.

'Chuck it or I'll tell your mother,' said Victoria, smiling too. She
withdrew her hand and turned away.

'Oh, I say, Vic, don't go, wait a bit,' cried Neville, 'I want, now what
did I want?'

'Sure I don't know,' said Victoria, 'you never said what you wanted.
Want me to make up your mind for you?'

'Do, Vic, let our minds be one,' said Neville.

Victoria looked at him approvingly. Neville Brown deserved the nickname
of 'Beauty,' which had clung to him since he left school. Brown wavy
hair, features so clean cut as to appear almost effeminate, a broad
pointed jaw, all combined to make him the schoolgirl's dream. Set off by
his fair and slightly sunburnt face, his blue eyes sparkled with
mischief.

'Well, then, special and cream. Sixpence and serve you right.'

She laughed and stepped briskly away to the counter.

'You're in luck, Beauty,' said his neighbour with a sardonic air.

'Oh, it's no go, James,' replied Brown, 'straight as they make them.'

'Don't say she's not. But if I weren't a married man, I'd go for her
baldheaded.'

'Guess you would, Jimmy,' said Beauty, laughing, 'but you'd be wasting
your time. You wouldn't get anything out of her.'

'Don't you be too sure,' said Jimmy meaningly. He passed his hand
reflectively over his shaven lips.

'Well, well,' said Brown, 'p'raps I'm not an Apollo like you, Jimmy.'

Jimmy smiled complacently. He was a tall slim youth, well groomed about
the head, doggy about the collar and tie, neatly dressed in Scotch
tweed. His steady grey eyes and firm mouth, a little set and rigid, the
impeccability of all about him, had stamped business upon his face as
upon his clothes.

'Oh, I can't queer your pitch, Beauty,' he said a little grimly. 'I know
you, you low dog.'

Beauty laughed at the epithet. 'You've got no poetry about you, you
North Country chaps, when a girl's as lovely as Victoria--'

'As lovely as Victoria,' he repeated a little louder as Victoria laid
the cup of coffee before him.

'I know all about that,' said Victoria coolly, 'you don't come it over
me like that, Nevy.'

'Cruel, cruel girl,' sighed Neville. 'Ah, if you only knew what I
feel----'

Victoria put her hand on the tablecloth and, for a moment, looked down
into Neville's blue eyes.

'You oughtn't to be allowed out,' she pronounced, 'you aren't safe.'

Jimmy