ou'll have to take my word for it. You'll do that if you want
to. If you want to believe in me. Do you?"

"Of course I do!" Jenny blazed. "I can't! Be different if I was at home.
But I'm here, and you knew I'd come. D'you see what I mean?"

"You're not in a trap, old girl," said Keith. "You can go home this
minute if you think you are." His colour also rose. "You make too much
fuss. You want me to tell you good fat lies to save your face. Don't be
a juggins, Jenny! Show your spirit! Jenny!"

Keith still held her hand. He drew it towards him, and Jenny was made to
lean by his sudden movement. He slipped his arm again round her. Jenny
did not yield herself. He was conscious of rebuff, although she did not
struggle.

"You want me to trust you blindfold," she said in a dreary voice. "It's
not good enough, Keith. Really it isn't! When you don't trust me. You
sent for me, and I came. As soon as I was here you ... you were as
beastly as you could be ..." Her voice trembled.

"Not really beastly ..." Keith urged, and his coaxing tone and concerned
expression shook her. "Nice beastly, eh?"

"You weren't nice. You weren't ..." Jenny hesitated. "You didn't ... you
weren't nice."

"I didn't want to frighten you."

Jenny drew herself up, frantically angry.

"_Now_ who's lying!" she savagely cried, and put her hands to disengage
herself. "Oh Keith, I'm so sick of it!" He held her more tightly. All
her efforts were unavailing against that slowly increased pressure from
his strong arms.

"Listen, Jenny," Keith said. "I love you. That's that. I wanted to see
you more than anything on earth. I wanted to kiss you. Good God,
Jen.... D'you think you're the easiest person in the world to manage?"

iii

The bewilderment that succeeded clove the silence. Jenny gasped against
her will.

"What do you mean?" she demanded.

"You think I'm looking on you as cheap ... when I'm in an absolute funk
of you!" Keith cried.

"O-oh!" Her exclamation was incredulity itself. Keith persisted warmly:

"I'm not lying. It's all true. And you're a termagant, Jenny. That's
what you are. You want it all your own way! Anything that goes wrong is
my fault--not yours! You don't think there's anything that's your fault.
It's all mine. But, my good girl, that's ridiculous. What d'you think I
know about _you?_ Eh? Nothing whatever! Absolutely nothing! You think
you're as clear as day! You're not. You're a dark horse. I'm afraid of
you--afraid of yo