“Just wait a minute, please,” said Susanna.  The waiter retired.

“Now then,” she resumed, placing her elbows on the table, “let us have no more nonsense.  What is your little game?  Are you going to pay that bill or am I?”

“I am, of course.”

“There is no of course in it—­not yet, anyhow.  What are you hanging about the theatre after me for?  Tell me that.  Dont stop to think.”

Marmaduke looked foolish, and then sulky.  Finally he brightened, and said, “Look here.  Youre angry with me for bringing your brother last night.  But upon my soul I had no idea—­”

“That’s not what I mean at all.  You are dodging a plain question.  When you came to the theatre, I thought you were a nice fellow; and I made friends with you.  Now I find you have been telling me lies about yourself, and trying to play fast and loose.  You must either give that up or give me up.  I wont have you pass that stage door again if you only want to amuse yourself like other lounging cads about town.”

“What do you mean by playing fast and loose, and being a cad about town?” said Marmaduke angrily.

“I hope youre not going to make a row here in public.”

“No; but I have you where you cant make a row; and I intend to have it out with you once and for all.  If you quarrel now, so help me Heaven I’ll never speak to you again!”

“It is you who are quarrelling.”

“Very well,” said Susanna, opening her purse as though the matter were decided.  “Waiter.”

“I am going to pay.”

“So you can—­for what you had yourself.  I dont take dinners from strange men, nor pay for their ices.”

Marmaduke did not reply.  He took out his purse determinedly; glanced angrily at her; and muttered, “I never thought you were that sort of woman.”

“What sort of woman?” demanded Susanna, in a tone that made the other occupants of the room turn and stare.

“Never mind,” said Marmaduke.  She was about to retort, when she saw him looking into his purse with an expression of dismay.  The waiter came.  Susanna, instead of attempting to be beforehand in proffering the money, changed her mind, and waited.  Marmaduke searched his pockets.  Finding nothing, he muttered an imprecation, and, fingering his watch chain, glanced doubtfully at the waiter, who looked stolidly at the tablecloth.

“There,” said Susanna, putting down a sovereign.

Marmaduke looked on helplessly whilst the waiter changed the coin and thanked Susanna for her gratuity.  Then he said, “You must let me settle with you for this to-night.  Ive left nearly all my cash in the pocket of another waistcoat.”

“You will not have the chance of settling with me, either to-night or any other night.  I am done with you.”  And she rose and left the restaurant.  Marmaduke sat doggedly for quarter of a minute.  Then he went out, and ran along Regent Street, anxiously looking from face to face in search of her.  At last he saw her walking at a great pace a little distance ahead of him.  He made a dash and overtook her.