nds with me when I said 'good-bye' to
her at Euston." There was a little silence. The thoughts of both men
flew to Christine as she had been when she first came to London; so
happy--so radiantly happy.

And Jimmy could look farther back still; could see her as she had been
in the old days at Upton House when she had been his first love. Jimmy
gave a great sigh.

"What a damnable hash-up, eh?" he said.

"It'll all come right--I'm certain it will."

Jimmy looked at him affectionately.

"Dear old optimist!" He struck a match and lit the cigarette which had
been hanging listlessly between his lips. "I suppose--if you'd run
down and have a look at her now and then," he said awkwardly. "She
likes you--and you could let me know if she's all right."

"If you don't think she would consider it an intrusion."

"I am sure she wouldn't; and you'll like Upton House." Jimmy's voice
was dreamily reminiscent. "It's to be sold later on, you know; but for
the present Christine will live there. . . . It would be a real
kindness if you would run down now and then, old chap."

"I will, of course, if you're sure----"

"I'm quite sure. Christine likes you."

"Very well."

Sangster kept his eyes downbent; somehow he could not meet Jimmy's just
then.

"And you--what are you going to do?" he asked presently.

"I shall go back to my old rooms for a time, and take Costin with me;
he'll be pleased, anyway, with the new arrangement. It was really
funny the way he tried to congratulate me when I told him I was going
to be married----" He broke off, remembering that afternoon, and the
way Cynthia had come into the room as they were talking.

He would never see her again; never meet the seductive pleading of her
eyes any more; never hear her laughing voice calling to him, "Jimmy
dear."

The thought was intolerable. He moved restlessly in his chair; the
sweat broke out on his forehead.

"My God! it seems impossible that she's dead," he said hoarsely.

Sangster did not look up.

There was a long pause.

"She was in Mortlake's car, you know," said Jimmy again, disjointedly.

Sangster nodded.

"He'll be shockingly cut-up," said Jimmy again. "I hated the chap; but
he was really fond of her."

"Yes." Jimmy's cigarette had gone out again, and he relit it absently.

"Christine will never believe that it hasn't broken my heart," he said
in a queer voice.

No answer.

"You won't believe it either?" he said.

The