He spoke quite distinctly; Mortlake must have heard every word.

Cynthia looked nonplussed for a moment; then she laughed.

"Come any time you like, my dear boy. . . . I am always pleased to see
you--any afternoon, you know."

She smiled and nodded. Jimmy felt that he had been dismissed. After a
moment he walked away.

His heart was a dead weight in his breast. He sat down again beside
Christine. She turned to him eagerly.

"Wasn't that Miss Farrow? . . . . Oh, Jimmy, why didn't you tell me?"

Jimmy drained his wineglass before answering.

"I forgot you were interested; I'm sorry. . . . She isn't alone, you
see, or--or I would introduce her--if you cared for me to, that is."

"I don't think Miss Wyatt would care for Miss Farrow," said Arthur
Sangster quietly.

Jimmy looked furious. Angry words rushed to his lips, but he choked
them with an effort.

"Narrow-minded old owl!" he said, half jokingly, half in earnest.

Later, when the two men had left Mrs. Wyatt and Christine at their