"It's your doing--all your fault. You nearly drove me mad when you
sent me away, and I--I----" There was a long pause. "I told you that
I met some friends in the theatre that night when you . . . well, I'm
engaged to her--to Christine. I've known her all my life. I--I was
utterly wretched . . . I asked her to marry me. We're--we're going to
be married the day after to-morrow."

Twice she tried to speak, but no words would come. She was as white
now as the lilies she wore; her eyes had a stunned, incredulous look in
them. She had never even remotely dreamed of this; it was like some
crude nightmare. . . . Jimmy engaged! Jimmy who had sworn a thousand
times never to love another woman; Jimmy who had been heart-broken when
she sent him away. She broke out in vehement protest:

"Oh, no--no!"

"It's true," said Jimmy obstinately. "It's true."

For the moment he was hardly conscious of any feeling except a sort of
shock. It had never once crossed his mind that she would come back to
him; he could not believe even now that she was in earnest; he found
himself remembering that night in her dressing-room at the theatre when
she had lied to him, and pretended, and deceived him. Perhaps even
this was all part of the play-acting; perhaps she was just trying to
win him back again, to make a fool of him afresh.

Cynthia broke out again.

"Well, this girl must be told; she can't care for you. You say you
haven't seen her for years. It's--it's absurd!" She took a step