moment Jimmy Challoner swung round irritably.

"Well, why don't you say something?" he demanded. "It's a nice
friendly way to receive news. Why the devil don't you say something?"
he asked again angrily.

Sangster said something then; something which Jimmy had never expected.

"You ought to be shot!"

And then the silence fell once more.

Jimmy kicked at the blazing coals furiously; he had got very red.

"You ought to be shot!" said Sangster again. He rose to his feet; he
threw his unsmoked cigarette into the grate and walked towards the door.

Jimmy turned.

"Here--come back! Where are you going? Of all the bad-tempered
beggars----" His face was abashed; there was a sort of wavering in his
voice. He moved a step forward to overtake his friend.

Sangster looked back at him with biting contempt in his honest eyes.

"I'm fed up with you," he said. "Sick to death of you and your
abominable selfishness. I--oh, what's the good of talking----?" He
was gone with a slam of the door.

Jimmy dragged a chair forward and flung himself into it. His face was