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He folded the paper and put it into the envelope; he sat for a moment with it in his hand looking down at Christine's married name, "Mrs. James Challoner." Poor little Mrs. Jimmy! A wife, and yet no wife. Sangster lifted the envelope to his lips, and hurriedly kissed the name before he thrust the envelope into his pocket, and went out to post it.
Sangster was looking at him curiously. "Oh! I understood what was the reason, then?" he asked. Jimmy turned away. He found the other man's eyes somehow disconcerting. "She's married already," he said in a stifled voice. "I I always knew she had been married, of course. She made no secret of it.
For a moment he could think of nothing to say; he had only told the story in order to soften her towards Jimmy, and in a measure he had succeeded. Christine walked beside him without speaking for some time; her brown eyes were very thoughtful. Sangster talked no more of Jimmy; he was too tactful to overdo things. Jimmy was not mentioned between them again till he took her back to the hotel.
"My dear fellow, I thought it was all right. I thought you'd made it up. I'm awfully sorry." "We haven't made it up never shall from what I can see," Jimmy snapped at him. "Oh, for the Lord's sake let's talk about something else." Sangster raised his troubled eyes to the dark starless sky. He had been so sure everything was all right. Jimmy had made no recent confidence to him.
Perhaps he would never grow up into a man as Kettering and Sangster understood the word; but his very boyishness was what Christine had first loved in him. Perhaps he could have chosen no surer or swifter way to her forgiveness than this. . . . In a moment her arms were round his neck. She tried to draw his head down to her shoulder.
Jimmy came over to where he sat: "Go and ring up again, there's a dear chap," he said. His voice was hoarse. "Ring up the hotel for me, will you? She may have come back. . . . Oh, I hope to God she has," he added brokenly. Sangster rose at once. He held out his hand. "I'm so sorry, Jimmy. I'd give anything anything " he stopped.
He would have given ten years of his life to have been able to believe that it was something else quite different. "Well, I'll look in again in the morning," he said. "And if you want me, send round, of course." "Yes, sir." Costin helped Sangster on with his coat and saw him to the door; he was dying to ask what had become of Mrs. Jimmy, but he did not like to.
She did not look so very unhappy, he told himself. Sangster was waiting for them when they reached the supper-room. He greeted Christine warmly. He told her jokingly that he had got his dress-suit out of pawn in her honour. He looked very well and happy. The little supper passed off cheerily enough.
"Infernal young fool!" he said savagely after a moment; but whether he referred to a youth who was just at that moment passing, or to Jimmy Challoner, seemed uncertain. Sangster took Christine to a little out-of-the-way restaurant, where he knew there would not be many people.
He knew that Sangster was watching him. His gaze got unbearable. He swung round with sharp impatience. "What the devil are you staring at?" he demanded irritably. "Nothing. What a surly brute you're getting. Got a cigarette?" Jimmy threw his case over. "By the way," he said with overdone carelessness, "I've got some news for you.
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