determination. "You know what I'm talking about. Oh, yes, you do! I'm
talking about those tickets. And me. And you!"

Jenny's eyes contracted. She looked fixedly at her work. Her hands
continued busy.

"Well, you're going to take Emmy, aren't you!" she prevaricated. "You
asked her to go."

"No!" he said. "I'm going with her, because she's said she'll go. But it
was you that asked her."

"Did I? How could I? They weren't mine. You're a man. You brought the
tickets. You asked her yourself." Jenny shook her head. "Oh, no, Alf
Rylett. You mustn't blame me. Take my advice, my boy. You be very glad
Emmy's going. If you mean me, I should have said 'No,' because I've got
to do this hat. Emmy's going to-night. You'll enjoy yourself far more."

"Oh ----!" He did not use an oath, but it was implied. "What did you do
it for? Didn't you want to come yourself? No, look here, Jenny: I want
to know what's going on. You've always come with me before." He glared
at her in perplexity, puzzled to the depths of his intelligence by a
problem beyond its range. Women had always been reported to him as a
mystery; but he had never heeded.

"It's Emmy's turn, then," Jenny went on. She could not resist the
display of a sisterly magnanimity, although it was not the true
magnanimity, and in fact had no relation to the truth. "Poor old Em gets
stuck in here day after day," she pleaded. "She's always with Pa till he
thinks she's a fixture. Well, why shouldn't she have a little pleasure?