"It's here in your hand," said Vivi, shocked at the discovery. "Women will play very little part in your life. It's not that you haven't a lot to give, you have. See this bump, that's affection. It's very developed." "That's where I threw my thumb out of joint," said Skippy doubtfully. "But you've had a terrible experience in your life that has shaken your faith and you are afraid to trust again." Skippy looked the picture of gloom at this and thought bitterly on Mimi Lafontaine after hesitating once or twice on the backward journey. "This has made you cynical and cold, ready to impute the lowest motives. Women will love you--many women, but you will give your heart only once more--and that--_that_ will be a tragedy, on account of your own lack of faith." "Say, is all that there?" said Skippy, beginning to be alarmed. "That and more," said Vivi, warming up. "You are very loyal, not at all conceited, brilliant intellectual qualities and you will make a success--" Here Vivi paused and turned his hand over, studying it carefully. "I see railroads and banking in your hand." "Do you think so?" said Skippy unconvinced. "There it is. You will make loads and loads of money." "I say, do I get married?" "That is not quite clear," said Vivi frowning. "This looks like it--but again this line--the cold calculating streak in your nature--" At this moment, from down the beach, came a shrill whistle imitative of the whip-poor-will, insistent, querulous and repeated. Vivi dropped his hand and glanced hastily at her watch. "Good heavens, it's four o'clock!" "All right, I'm on. Who's the little bird?" said Skippy, who had not heard himself described as the acme of suspicion for nothing. "Jack!" The whip-poor-will rose to shriller heights. "It's Charlie Brownrigger," said Vivi, trying to appear embarrassed, "and he's come round to say good-bye." "Oh, indeed." "I _had_ to let him say good-bye," said Vivi imploringly to the young sultan. "I've treated him abominably since you came. I can't be rude to a chap, can I? I'll be right back." "How long's it going to take?" asked Skippy, drawing out his watch. "Oh about twenty minutes," said Vivi. "I'll wait exactly half an hour. Four-thirty to the minute. Not a second more." "I do believe you're jealous, Jack Bedelle!" said Vivi expectantly. "Jealousy has no part in my nature," said Skippy loftily. "Besides you can see it in my hand. Firmness, that's all!" "Brute!" said Vivi with a killing glance. She picked up the pink parasol and hastened down the beach. Skippy fished out the Philomathean Debating Society pin and slowly attached it to his vest. He switched to the vacated place with the back rest and began to whistle to himself. At the end of a seeming hour he glanced at his watch. Exactly seven minutes had elapsed.