"Yes. . . . Oh, don't look so scandalised, man! I saw her off from Euston myself; it was all outwardly quite a friendly arrangement. She's gone down to Upton House; she's going to have a friend of hers to stay with her for a time--a Miss Leighton----" He paused, and went on heavily: "Of course, you've heard about--about----" "Yes----" "Well--well, they sent for me. It was too late! She--she was dead when I got there; but Christine found out somehow--I don't know how. I give you my word of honour I meant to have told her; but--she wouldn't believe anything I said. . . . We--we had a row last night; I dare say it was my fault. I was upset, of course----" "Of course." "And this morning I tried to apologise. I asked her to overlook everything that had happened, and--and start again." Jimmy laughed dully. "I--well, I believe she hates the sight of me." Jimmy caught his breath hard on the memory of the burning hatred that had looked at him from Christine's beautiful brown eyes. "It's quite for the best--this arrangement. Don't think I'm blaming her--I'm not; perhaps if she'd been a little older--if she'd known a little more about the world--she'd have been more tolerant; I don't know. Anyway, she's gone." He raised his humiliated eyes to Sangster's distressed face. "She will forgive you. She's hurt now, of course; but later on . . ." Jimmy shook his head. "She's made me promise to keep away from her for six months. I had no option--she thinks the worst of me, naturally. She thinks that I--I cared for--for Cynthia--right up to the end. . . . I didn't." He stopped, choking. "She's dead--don't let's talk about it," he added. Sangster had hardly touched his lunch; he sat smoking fast and furiously. "Six months is a long time," he said at last. "Yes--it's only a polite way of saying she never wants to see me again; and I don't blame her." "That's absurd; she's too fond of you." Jimmy hunched his shoulders. "That's what I tried to flatter myself; but I know better now. She--she wouldn't even shake hands with me when I said 'good-bye' to her at Euston." There was a little silence. The thoughts of both men flew to Christine as she had been when she first came to London; so happy--so radiantly happy. And Jimmy could look farther back still; could see her as she had been in the old days at Upton House when she had been his first love. Jimmy gave a great sigh. "What a damnable hash-up, eh?" he said. "It'll all come right--I'm certain it will." Jimmy looked at him affectionately. "Dear old optimist!" He struck a match and lit the cigarette which had been hanging listlessly between his lips. "I suppose--if you'd run down and have a look at her now and then," he said awkwardly. "She likes you--and you could let me know if she's all right." "If you don't think she would consider it an intrusion."