He went downstairs and took up the receiver. "Hilloa!" he said. "Is that you, Paddy?" was the response. "Cecily!" "Yes. I've just had your letter. Are you very cross, Paddy?" He felt perturbed, but he tried to make his voice sound as if he were indifferent to her. "No," he replied, "I'm not cross at all...." "Oh, yes, you are, Paddy. You're very cross, and you're going to teach me a lesson, aren't you?" He could hear her light laugh as she spoke. "I can't _make_ you believe that I'm not cross at all," he said. "No, you can't. Paddy!" Her voice had a coaxing note as she said his name. "Yes." "Come to lunch with me. Jimphy's gone off for the day somewhere...." "I'm sorry!..." "Do come, Paddy. I want you to come. I do, really!" He paused for a second or two before he replied. After all why should he not go?... "I'm sorry," he said, "but I really can't lunch with you. I'm going to Ireland!..." "Going where?" "Ireland. To-night! I'm going with Gilbert!" "But you can't go this minute. Paddy, you _are_ cross, and you're spiteful, too. If you aren't cross, you'll come and lunch with me. You ought to come and say 'good-bye' to me before you go to Ireland...." "I've got a lot to do ... packing and things!" "You can do that afterwards!" Her voice became more insistent. "Paddy, I want you to come. You must come!..." He hesitated, and she said, "Do, Paddy!" very appealingly. It would be weak, he told himself, to yield to her now ... she would think she had only to be a little gracious and he would be at her feet immediately; and then he thought it would be weak not to yield to her. "It'll look as if I were afraid to meet her ... running away like this. Or that I'm sulking ... just petulant!" "All right," he said to her, "I'll come!" "Come now!" He nodded his head, forgetting that she could not see him, and she called to him again, "You'll come now, won't you?" "Yes," he replied. "I'll come at once!" He put up the receiver and reached for his hat. "I wonder what she wants," he thought, "perhaps she really does love me and my letter's frightened her!" His spirits rose at the thought and he went jauntily to the door and opened it, and as he did so, Ninian, pale and miserable, panted up the steps. "My God, Quinny!" he exclaimed, almost sobbing, "the _Gigantic's_ gone down!" "The what?" "The _Gigantic's_ gone down! It's in the paper. Look, look!" He was unbalanced by grief as he thrust the _Westminster Gazette_ and the _Globe_ into Henry's hands. "But, damn it, she can't have gone down," Henry said, "she's a Belfast boat ... she can't have gone down!" "She has, I tell you, and Tom Arthurs ... oh, my God, Quinny, he's gone down too! The decentest chap on earth and ... and he's been drowned!"