id. Come; what was your game?"

"You like pleasure, I believe."

Fiorsen said violently:

"Look here: I have done with your friendship--you are no friend to me.
I have never really known you, and I should not wish to. It is finished.
Leave me in peace."

Rosek smiled.

"My dear, that is all very well, but friendships are not finished like
that. Moreover, you owe me a thousand pounds."

"Well, I will pay it." Rosek's eyebrows mounted. "I will. Gyp will lend
it to me."

"Oh! Is Gyp so fond of you as that? I thought she only loved her
music-lessons."

Crouching forward with his knees drawn up, Fiorsen hissed out:

"Don't talk of Gyp! Get out of this! I will pay you your thousand
pounds."

Rosek, still smiling, answered:

"Gustav, don't be a fool! With a violin to your shoulder, you are a man.
Without--you are a child. Lie quiet, my friend, and think of Mr. Wagge.
But you had better come and talk it over with me. Good-bye for the
moment. Calm yourself." And, flipping the ash off his cigarette on to
the tray by Fiorsen's elbow, he nodded and went.

Fiorsen, who had leaped out of bed, put his hand to his head. The cursed
fellow! Cursed be every one of them--the father and the girl, Rosek and
all the other sharks! He went out on to the landing. The house was quite
still below. Rosek had gone--good riddance! He called, "Gyp!" No answer.
He went into her room. Its superlative daintiness struck his fancy. A
scent of cyclamen! He looked out into the garden. There was the baby
at the end, and that fat woman. No Gyp! Never in when she was
wanted. Wagge! He shivered; and, going back into his bedroom, took a
brandy-bottle from a locked cupboard and drank some. It steadied him; he
locked up the cupboard again, and dressed.

Going out to the music-room, he stopped under the trees to make passes
with his fingers at the baby. Sometimes he felt that it was an adorable
little creature, with its big, dark eyes so like Gyp's. Sometimes it
excited his disgust--a discoloured brat. This morning, while looking
at it, he thought suddenly of the other that was coming--and grimaced.
Catching Betty's stare of horrified amazement at the face he was
making at her darling, he burst into a laugh and turned away into the
music-room.

While he was keying up his violin, Gyp's conduct in never having come
there for so long struck him as bitterly unjust. The girl--who cared
about the wretched girl? As if she made any real difference! It was