then you told me you were engaged. I might have expected it, but I
couldn't keep my jealousy from showing itself, and you snubbed me as I
deserved. But now ... things are different now. Everything's
different, except my love."

Jill turned her face to the wall beside her. A man at the next table,
a corpulent, red-faced man, had begun to stare. He could have heard
nothing, for Wally had spoken in a low voice; but plainly he was aware
that something more interesting was happening at their table than at
any of the other tables, and he was watching with a bovine
inquisitiveness which affected Jill with a sense of outrage. A moment
before, she had resented the indifference of the outer world. Now,
this one staring man seemed like a watching multitude. There were
tears in her eyes, and she felt that the red-faced man suspected it.

"Wally...." Her voice broke. "It's impossible."

"Why? Why, Jill?"

"Because.... Oh, it's impossible!"

There was a silence.

"Because...." He seemed to find a difficulty in speaking. "Because of
Underhill?"

Jill nodded. She felt wretched. The monstrous incongruity of her
surroundings oppressed her. The orchestra had dashed into a rollicking
melody, which set her foot tapping in spite of herself. At a near-by
table somebody was shouting with laughter. Two waiters at a
service-stand were close enough for her to catch snatches of their
talk. They were arguing about an order of fried potatoes. Once again
her feelings veered round, and she loathed the detachment of the
world. Her heart ached for Wally. She could not look at him, but she
knew exactly what she would see if she did--honest, pleading eyes
searching her face for something which she could not give.

"Yes," she said.

The table creaked. Wally was leaning further forward. He seemed like
something large and pathetic--a big dog in trouble. She hated to be
hurting him. And all the time her foot tapped accompaniment to the
rag-time tune.

"But you can't live all your life with a memory," said Wally.

Jill turned and faced him. His eyes seemed to leap at her, and they
were just as she had pictured them.

"You don't understand," she said gently. "You don't understand."

"It's ended. It's over."

Jill shook her head.

"You can't still love him, after what has happened!"

"I don't know," said Jill unhappily.

The words seemed to bewilder Wally as much as they had bewildered
Freddie.

"You don't know?"

Jill shut her eyes t