She was smoking a cigarette. She threw it pettishly into the fire as
he dropped on his knees beside her.

"Cynthia," said Jimmy Challoner hoarsely, "aren't you--aren't you just
a little bit pleased to see me?" It was a very boyish appeal;
Cynthia's face softened before it. She laid a hand for a moment on his
shoulder.

"I am always pleased to see you, Jimmy; you know that. I hope we shall
always be friends, even though--even though----"

Jimmy caught her hand and covered it with kisses.

"Darling!"

She moved restlessly.

"Jimmy, you're such a boy." There was a hint of impatience now in her
voice. "Aren't you ever going to grow up?"

He rose to his feet and moved away from her, The momentary flash of
happiness had fallen from him; he felt very old and miserable as he
stood leaning his elbow on the mantelshelf staring down at the fire.
She no longer cared for him; something in her voice told him that as no
actual words would have done. She had not wanted him to come here
to-day. Even now she wished that he would go away and leave her. He
suddenly remembered what Sangster had said last night. He turned
abruptly, looking down at Cynthia.

She was sitting up now, looking before her with puckered brows. One