"He's like a baby with his titty bottle," explained Emmy. "Now he'll be
quiet again."

Alf fidgeted a little. This contretemps had unnerved him. He was less
sure of himself.

"Well," he said at last, darkly. "What I came in about ... Quarter to
eight, is it? By Jove, I'm late. That's telling Mr. Blanchard all the
news. The fact is, I've got a couple of tickets for the theatre down the
road--for this evening, I thought ... erum ..."

"Oh, extravagance!" cried Jenny, gaily, dropping the pin from between
her lips and looking in an amused flurry at Emmy's anguished face
opposite. It was as though a chill had struck across the room, as though
both Emmy's heart and her own had given a sharp twist at the shock.

"Ah, that's where you're wrong. That's what cleverness does for you."
Alf nodded his head deeply and reprovingly. "Given to me, they were, by
a pal o' mine who works at the theatre. They're for to-night. I
thought--"

Jenny, with her heart beating, was stricken for an instant with panic.
She bent her head lower, holding the rose against the side of her hat,
watching it with a zealous eye, once again to test the effect. He
thought she was coquetting, and leaned a little towards her. He would
have been ready to touch her face teasingly with his forefinger.

"Oh," Jenny exclaimed, with a hurried assumption of matter of fact ease
suddenly ousting her panic. "That's very good. So you thought you'd take