he slain suitors too
slow to race with Atalanta.

"Men _are_ fools," Jenny proclaimed.

"Did you see Fred to-night?"

"Yes; he saw me home."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing much. I told him not to talk because he got on my nerves, and I
wanted to think about my new costume for the spring."

"Didn't he mind?"

"I can't help his troubles. He asked if he might kiss me."

"What did you say?"

"I told him after the next turning, and every time we come to the next
turning I told him the next, till we got to our gate. I said good night,
and he said, 'What about my kiss?' I said, 'There's a cheek; you don't
want much'; and he said, 'I give you a brooch last week, Jenny'; and I
said, 'There's your brooch,' and I threw it down."

"What did he do?"

"He couldn't do much. I trod on it and ran in."

"Somebody'll shoot you one day," prophesied May.

"Who cares? Besides, they haven't got no pluck. Men are walking
cigarettes, that's what men are."

Drury Lane pantomime came to an end.

"And a good job," said Jenny, "for it isn't a pantomime at all; it's
more of a Lord Mayor's show."

Jenny now had to rehearse hard for the ballet at Covent Garden, but
there was still plenty of time in the lengthening spring dusks with
their silver stars and luminous horizons, to fool plenty of men. There
was a quarrelsome interlude with Alfie on this account. The latter had
rashly presented one of his own friends for Jenny's sport. The friend
had spent most of his income on chocolates and pit-stalls, and at one
swoop a whole week's salary on a garnet bracelet.

"Look here," said Alfie, "don't you get playing your tricks on any of my
friends, because I won't have it."

"Hark at him. Hark at Alfred Proud. As if your friends were better than
anyone else's."

"Well, I'm not going to have fellows say my sister's hot stuff."

"Who did?"

"Never mind who did. Somebody said it."

"Arthur?"

Arthur was the melancholy Romeo introduced by Alfie.

"Somebody said you was to Arthur."

"And what did he do?"

"He was quite disgusted. He walked away."

"Didn't he have a fight over it?"

"No. He said he would have done, only you treated him so off-hand."

"Well, he needn't come whistling outside for me no more."

"You're not going to chuck him?"

"Chuck him? I never had him. He worried me to go out with him. I didn't
want to go."

"You'll get a bullet in your chest one of these days. You'll get shot."

"Not by one of your massi