gets in the first one." He couldn't help admiring Jenny,
even yet. So he hastened to pretend that he did not admire her; out of a
kind of tact. "But of course ... that's all very well for a bit of
sport, but it gets a bit wearisome after a time. I know what you
mean...."

"Don't think I've been complaining about her," Emmy said. "I wouldn't.
Really, I wouldn't. Only I do think sometimes it's not quite fair that
she should have all the fun, and me none of it. I don't want a lot. My
tastes are very simple. But when it comes to none at all--well, Alf,
what do _you_ think?"

"It's a bit thick," admitted Alf. "And that's a fact."

"See, she's always having her own way. Does just what she likes. There's
no holding her."

"Wants a man to do that," ruminated Alf, with a half chuckle. "Eh?"

"Well," said Emmy, a little brusquely. "I pity the man who tries it on."

vii

Emmy was not deliberately trying to secure from Alf a proposal of
marriage. She was trying to show him the contrast between Jenny and
herself, and to readjust the balances as he appeared to have been
holding them. She wanted to impress him. She was as innocent of any
other intention as any girl could have been. It was jealousy that
spoke; not scheme. And she was perfectly sincere in her depreciation of
Jenny. She could not understand what it was that made the admiring look
come into the faces of those who spoke to Jenny, nor why the unwilling
admiration that started into her own heart should ever find a place
there. She was baffled by character, and she was engaged in the common
task of rearranging life to suit her own temperament.

They had been walking for some little distance now along deserted
streets, the moon shining upon them, their steps softly echoing, and
Emmy's arm as warm as toast. It was like a real lover's walk, she could
not help thinking, half in the shadow and wholly in the stillness of the
quiet streets. She felt very contented; and with her long account of
Jenny already uttered, and her tough body already reanimated by the
walk, Emmy was at leisure to let her mind wander among sweeter things.
There was love, for example, to think about; and when she glanced
sideways Alf's shoulder seemed such a little distance from her cheek.
And his hand was lightly clasping her wrist. A strong hand, was Alf's,
with a broad thumb and big capable fingers. She could see it in the
moonlight, and she had suddenly an extraordinary longing to press her
c