ince her return, three days ago, from her summer holiday by the sea at
Cromer they had not met. That morning, being Monday, she had resumed her
daily labours in the big, long workroom of the Jewish firm who traded
under the name of the Maison Collette, and she had, as is usual with
girls, related to her friends many of the incidents of what she declared
to be "a ripping holiday."

As she stood with her white hand tenderly upon his shoulder, looking
lovingly into his eyes, she was describing her return to business, and
how she regretted that the long summer seaside days were no more,
whereupon he said, cheerfully, in English:

"Never mind, darling; November will soon come, and you will then have no
further need to go to business. You will be mine. Shall we go out for a
walk?" he suggested, noticing that she already had her hat on.

To his suggestion she willingly assented, and, raising her full, red
lips to his, she kissed him, and then they descended to the restaurant
below, empty at that hour save for the seedy old waiter, Pierre, and her
father, an elderly, grey, sad-looking man, whose business in later years
had, alas! sadly declined on account of the many restaurants which had
sprung up along Oxford Street during the past ten years. He had seen
better times, but nowadays it was always a hard struggle to make both
ends meet, to pay the landlord and to live.

Ralph and old Libert exchanged greetings in French, and then, with Jean
upon his arm, young Ansell stepped out into Oxford Street.

The August night was dry, warm, and starlit. Few people were about as
they strolled along, chatting and laughing merrily. Before the theatres
discharge their chattering crowds, the main thoroughfares of central
London are usually quiet and half-deserted, and as the pair walked in
the direction of Regent Street, Jean's heart beat gladly with supreme
satisfaction that at last Ralph had returned to London.

November! Far off seemed that day of all days in her life when she would
be Ralph's bride.

Upon her finger was the engagement ring he had given her, one set with
diamonds of such fine quality that old Libert had wondered. Indeed, a
jeweller, whose habit it was to take his luncheon there each day, had
noticed it upon Jean's finger, and had valued it roughly at a hundred
pounds. Therefore Ralph could certainly not be badly off!

They had turned the corner into Regent Street, but were too engrossed in
each other's conversation