nclusion was reached was not at all clear to Trudy any more
than to the rest of the world. But after all, it is only fair to leave
something for the psychologists to debate about. At all events, it was
the definite conclusion at which she arrived.

She could not resist paying a fleeting return visit to the largest of
the jewellery stores. After which she told herself that it was little
short of going without shoes or stockings through the streets to have
been married the length of time she had been married and to possess
not a single diamond.

Returning home for a canned luncheon she discovered Gaylord humming a
love song and strumming on his ukulele.

"I say, old dear," he began, "I have had the greatest luck! I call it
nothing short of a fairy tale." He pointed at his neckscarf. Coming
near, Trudy bent over and gave way to a shrill scream. A handsome
diamond pin reposed in the old-rose silk.

"Where--where did you get it?" she managed to articulate.

"Beatrice really--the result of the raffle for the children's charity.
You remember we took tickets? She donated this scarfpin, and this
morning Jill Briggs came in and presented the trophy. My number was
the winning one: 56."

"She made you win it. You know she did, you toadying little
abomination! You fairly lick her boots--and she has to tip you
occasionally. And you sit there wearing that pin and never offering
to have it set in a pin for me. You dare to keep it--you dare?" She
lost her self-control.

Gay sprang up in alarm, the ukulele being the only weapon handy,
holding her off at arm's length. "How low!" he chattered. "How
d-disgustingly low----"

"Is it? I'll show you--I'll show you whether or not you can wear
diamond stickpins while I have to endure a wedding ring like a
washwoman's!"

Before Gay knew what was happening Trudy had left the house. A half
hour later a suave clerk's voice from the jewellery store was asking
him to step down at once, his wife had requested it, she had decided
on a ring for herself but wished his seal of approval--so did the
store--and a small deposit--would he be able to be with them shortly?

He would, struggling with a man-size rage. After all, the little
five-eighths-carat stone he had so proudly adorned his bosom with
would be dearly paid for in the end. That was what came of marrying
beneath him, he reproached himself as he locked up the apartment and
went down to the store. To make a scene in a fifty-cent cafe was