Jenny wavered. Her eyes flinched from the necessary task of facing him
down. Where women of more breeding have immeasurable resources of
tradition behind them, to quell any such inquisition, she was by
training defenceless. She had plenty of pluck, plenty of adroitness; but
she could only play the sex game with Alf very crudely because he was
not fine enough to be diverted by such finesse as she could employ. All
Jenny could do was to play for safety in the passage of time. If she
could beat him off until Emmy returned she could be safe for to-night;
and if she were safe now--anything might happen another day to bring
about her liberation.

"Bullying won't do. I grant that," she retorted defiantly. "You needn't
think it will." She jerked her head.

"We're going to have this out," Alf went on. Jenny darted a look of
entreaty at the kicking clock which lay so helplessly upon its side. If
only the clock would come to her aid, forgetting the episode of the
tea-cosy!

"Take you all your time," she said swiftly. "Why, the theatre's all full
by now. The people are all in. They're tuning up for the overture. Look
at it!" She pointed a wavering finger at the clock.

"We're going to have this out--now!" repeated Alf. "You know why I
brought the tickets here. It was because I wanted to take _you_. It's no
good denying it. That's enough. Somehow--I don't know why--you don't
want to go; and while I'm not looking you shove old Em on to me."

"That's what you say," Jenny protested. Alf took no notice of her
interruption. He doggedly proceeded.