"It is true," she said again. "It is true."

She drew away from him. She began to cry, carefully, so as not to
spoil her make-up. She hid her face in her hands. Once she looked at
him through her white fingers to see how he was taking it. Jimmy
Challoner was taking it very badly indeed. He stood biting his lip
hard. His hands were clenched.

"For God's sake don't cry," he broke out at length. "It drives me mad
to see you cry. I'll find a way out. We should have been so happy. I
can't give you up."

He spoke incoherently and stammeringly. He was really very much in
love, and now the thought of separation was a burning glass, magnifying
that love a thousandfold.

There were voices outside. Cynthia hastily dried her eyes. She did
not look as if she had been crying very bitterly.

"That's my call. I shall have to go. Don't keep me now. I'll write,
Jimmy. I'll see you again."

"You promise me that, whatever happens?"

"I promise." He caught her fingers and kissed them. "Darling, I'll
come back for you when the show's over. I can't bear to leave you like
this. You do love me?"

"Do you need to ask?"