Challoner turned then, "No, no answer."

He let himself into his rooms and shut the door. He felt as if he were
walking in space. For the moment he was unconscious of any emotion.

He walked over to the window and read the letter again. The only thing
about it that really struck him was its note of finality.

This was no petulantly written dismissal. She had thought it well out;
she really meant it.

He was jilted! The word stung him into life. His face flamed. A wave
of passionate anger swept over him. He was jilted! The detestable
thing for which he had always so deeply pitied other men of his
acquaintance had happened to him. He was no longer an engaged man, he
was discarded, unwanted!

For the moment he forgot the eloquent fact of Cynthia's marriage. He
only realised that she had thrown him aside--finished with him.

And he had loved her so much. He had never cared a hang for any other
woman in all his life in comparison with the devotion he had poured at
Cynthia's feet.

He looked round the room with blank eyes. He could not believe that he
had not fallen asleep and dreamed it all. His gaze was arrested by
Cynthia's portrait on the shelf--it seemed to be watching him with
smiling eyes.

In sudden rage he crossed the room and snatched it up. He stood for a