stop theorizing and face facts!" he cried. "Just
like a woman, to run away from things. Where am I to get cigarettes from
for to-morrow? Marcella, I can't be without them! What on earth you do
with the money I can't imagine! Girlie--do get them for me," and he
burst into tears. She stared at him in astonishment. The next moment her
arms were round his neck, his head on her shoulder.

"You poor little boy," she whispered. "Don't worry. I'll get them for
you."

"I'm sorry I'm such a kid, dearie. But you know my nerves are in rags
yet. And I can't be without cigarettes. I tell you I can't be without
cigarettes! Borrow some money from Mrs. King--"

"Don't you worry. I'll manage it," she said soothingly. "We've got bread
and jam and tea. We'll pretend it's a picnic and we've forgotten the
rest of the things."

"Naturally, you'd take good care to get in a good stock of the things
you like," he began. "Jam! Oh Lord, I do wish I hadn't a tongue. I say
unkind things and wish I hadn't the next minute."

"It rather gives away what you think, though," she said quietly, as she
went out of the room.

She passed three times through the kitchen before she could summon
sufficient courage to borrow sixpence from Mrs. King to buy cigarettes.
But after a while she came back with twenty cigarettes and gave them to
Louis.

He stared at them.

"Only twenty!" he said gloomily. "These will never see me through all
the week end."

"They're better than nothing, anyway," she said, not noticing that he
had not thanked her.

"I've only ten more--that's thirty--till Monday at noon. I'll never see
it through, girl--never in life. How much did you get from Mrs. King?"
he asked wildly.

"I only wanted sixpence for those," she said.

"You've the brains of a gnat," he cried.

They spent a miserable evening. The cigarette question was preying on
his mind, and she made it no better by talking about people on desert
islands, and people at the South Pole who were forced to do without
things. She was worried about him; she felt that if he had something big
in his life these little, mean obsessions would be sublimated by it.

And the something big came, silently and unexpected.

CHAPTER XIX

She wanted to go and spend the day under the great trees on Lady
Macquarie's Chair. The cool lapping of the blue water was inviting and
the shade of the trees promised drowsy restfulness. It seemed to her
that, if they were not near a table or