There was an awkward silence. Jimmy made no attempt to kiss her
again--he did not even touch her.

He was thinking of the night when he had asked Cynthia to marry him.
It had been in a taxi--coming home from the theatre. In imagination he
could still smell the scent of the lilies she wore in her fur
coat--still feel the touch of her hair against his cheek.

That had been all rapture; this--he looked at Christine remorsefully.
Poor child, she missed nothing in this strange proposal. Her eyes were
like stars. As she met Jimmy's gaze she moved shyly across to him and
raised her face.

"Kiss me, Jimmy," she said.

Jimmy kissed her very softly on the cheek. She put her hands up to his
broad shoulders.

"And--and you do--really--love me?" she asked wistfully.

Jimmy could not meet her eyes, but--

"Of course I do," he said.

* * * * * *

It was late when Jimmy got back to his rooms that night. Mrs. Wyatt
had insisted on him staying to dinner. There was no doubt that she was
delighted at the turn affairs had taken, though she had said that it