your--husband!--a lie--to--to get rid of
me."

"If you like to put it that way."

Jimmy turned blindly to the door. He felt like a drunken man. He had
opened it when she called his name; when she followed and caught his
hand, holding him back.

"Jimmy, don't go like that--not without saying good-bye. We've been
such friends--we've had such good times together."

She was sobbing now; genuine enough sobs they seemed. She clung to him
desperately.

"I always loved you; you must have known that I did, only--only----
Oh, I couldn't bear to be poor! That was it, Jimmy. I couldn't face
being poor."

Jimmy stood like a statue. One might almost have thought he had not
been listening. Then suddenly he wrenched his hand free.

"Let me go, for God's sake--let me go!"

He left her there, sobbing and calling his name.

She heard him go down the stairs--heard the sullen slam of a distant
door; then she rushed over to the window.

It was too dark to see him as he strode away from the house; everything
seemed horribly silent and empty.

Jimmy had gone; and Cynthia Farrow knew, as she stood there in the
disordered room, that by sending him away she had made the greatest
mistake of her selfish life.

CHAPTER VIII

THE SECOND ENGAGEMENT

Out in the night Jimmy Challoner stood for a moment in the darkness,
not knowing where to go or what to do.

He had had a bad shock. He could have borne it if she had only thrown
him over for that other man; but that she should have thought it worth
while to lie to him about it struck him to the soul. She had made a
fool of him--an utter and complete fool; he would never forgive her as
long as he lived.

After a moment he walked on. He carried his hat in his hand. The cool
night air fanned his hot forehead.

He had lost everything that had made life worth living; that was his
first passionate thought. Nobody wanted him--nobody cared a hang what
became of him; he told himself that he could quite understand poor
devils who jumped off bridges.

He went into the first restaurant he came to, and ordered a neat
brandy; that made him feel better, and he ordered a second on the
strength of it. The first shock had passed; anger took its place.

He would never forgive her; all his life he would never forgive her;
she was not worth a thought. She had never been worth loving.

She was a heartless, scheming woman; little Christine Wyatt had more
affection in the clasp o