small foot tapped the floor impatiently.

Jimmy moved nearer to her.

"Do you know what they are saying in the clubs?" he demanded.

She raised her eyes, she shrugged her slim shoulders.

"They are always saying something! What is it now?"

But her voice was not so indifferent as she would have had it; her eyes
were anxious.

"They are saying that you are engaged to Mortlake."

Jimmy's eyes never left her face; it was a tragic moment for him.
Cynthia's white hands clasped each other nervously.

"Are they?" she said. "How--how very amusing."

Her eyes had fallen now; he could only see the outline of darkened
lashes against her cheek.

He waited a moment, then he strode forward--he covered the space
between them in a stride; he put a hand beneath her chin, forcing her
to look at him.

"Is it true?" he asked. "Is it true?"

His voice was strangled; his breath came tearing from between clenched