He put a hand in his trousers pocket and jingled there. A thought had come to him, which comes to all men in moments of trial concerning women, moments calling for prompt treatment and nice judgment. A present! He could not afford it, but it must be done. What else could he do? He felt remarkably helpless. He felt about cautiously and intimately in his pocket, knowing with exactitude all that was there. It was not much. On Fridays he now banked half his weekly salary against such demands as rent, furniture instalments and so on. Thirty shillings he gave to Marie; ten he kept. This was Tuesday. He withdrew his hand with something in it--two half-crowns. He would lunch light for the next three days. "Darling," he said, with a slight break in his voice, so anxious he was to propitiate the pale, pretty girl who brooded at him from the head of the table, "look here! Do something to please me. When I'm out on the spree to-night let me think of your having a good time too. Why not ring up Miss Winter and get her to go to the theatre with you? Here's two seats." A slight flush stole into Marie's cheeks. "Oh, Osborn," she said, "but--" "What?" "Can you afford it?" "Blow 'afford'!" said Osborn largely, placing the half-crowns before her, "we must do absolutely anything to prevent you from getting wretched." She took the money up, half hesitating. She read the wistfulness in his face, but she felt rather wistful too. "Thank you, Osborn," she murmured; "it'll be lovely. Julia's sure to come. But, Osborn--" "What?" "Some evening you'll take me yourself, won't you?" "Rather!" "Shall I save this till to-morrow?" "No, no!" he cried. "To-day's when you want a tonic, not to-morrow. Go and get your tonic, Mrs. Osborn. Go and enjoy yourself!" He was restored to content. "I must go," he said, jumping up. "Let me kiss you. We're friends, aren't we, darling? You'll try not to hate the work so very much? When I get my rise it will make a lot of difference." Then they clung together, kissing and whispering, and the cream walls and the golden-brown curtains were as beautiful to them as ever. "Be a happy girl!" he cried, before he shut the front door. "I am!" she called back, and he was gone. She went down gaily, in spite of her weariness, and used the hall-porter's telephone to ring up Julia. Miss Winter would come and was very pleased, thank you. Marie went upstairs again, the ascent making her breathless. The stairs and the landings were grey stone, uncarpeted, for this was the cheapest block of flats in the road. Oh, money, money! Accursed, lovable stuff! Marie sat down, panting, in her kitchen. A mist rose before her eyes; she shut them and took a long breath; her head was light and dizzy. She began to be afraid.