“Don’t think about me,” she whispered, in a quick pity.  Alf still shook his head, reproachfully eyeing her with the old bull-like concern.  “I’m not worth thinking about.  I’m only a beast.  And you say you can trust Emmy....  She’s ever so ...”

“Ah, but she can’t make me mad like you do!” he said simply.  “Jen, will you come another night ...  Do!” He was beseeching her, his hands stretched towards her across the table, as near to making love as he would ever be.  It was his last faint hope for the changing of her heart towards him.  But Jenny slowly shook her head from side to side, a judge refusing the prisoner’s final desperate entreaties.

“No,” she said.  “It’s no good, Alf.  It’ll never be any good as long as I live.”

iii

Alf put out his hand and covered Jenny’s hand with it; and the hand he held, after a swift movement, remained closely imprisoned.  And just at that moment, when the two were striving for mastery, the door opened and Emmy came back into the room.  She was fully dressed for going out, her face charmingly set off by the hat she had offered earlier to Jenny, her eyes alight with happiness, her whole bearing unutterably changed.

“Now who’s waiting!” she demanded; and at the extraordinary sight before her she drew a quick breath, paling.  It did not matter that the clinging hands were instantly apart, or that Alf rose hurriedly to meet her.  “What’s that?” she asked, in a trembling tone.  “What are you doing?” As though she felt sick and faint, she sat sharply down upon her old chair near the door.  Jenny rallied.

“Only a kid’s game,” she said.  “Nothing at all.”  Alf said nothing, looking at neither girl.  Emmy tried to speak again; but at first the words would not come.  Finally she went on, with dreadful understanding.

“Didn’t you want to take me, Alf?  Did you want her to go?”

It was as though her short absence, perhaps even the change of costume, had worked a curious and cognate change in her mind.  Perhaps it was that in her flushed happiness she had forgotten to be suspicious, or had blindly misread the meanings of the earlier colloquy, as a result of which the invitation had been given.

“Don’t be so silly!” quickly cried Jenny.  “Of course he wanted you to go!”

“Alf!” Emmy’s eyes were fixed upon him with a look of urgent entreaty.  She looked at Alf with all the love, all the extraordinary intimate confidence with which women of her class do so generally regard the men they love, ready to yield judgment itself to his decision.  When he did not answer, but stood still before them like a red-faced boy, staring down at the floor, she seemed to shudder, and began despairingly to unfasten the buttons of her thick coat.  Jenny darted up and ran to check the process.

“Don’t be a fool!” she breathed.  “Like that!  You’ve got no time for a scene.”  Turning to Alf, she motioned him with a swift gesture to the door.  “Look sharp!” she cried.