“Is Channing Lloyd still there?” he broke in harshly.

“Yes, Jerry, he is.  But doesn’t it mean anything to you that I left him, to come to you?”

“You broke your promise—­to give him up—­”

“Why, Jerry, I had to invite him to my dance.  It would have been a slight.”

“But you promised.  He’s a—­”

“But I’ve known him for ages, Jerry.  I can’t be impolite.”

“He’s not polite to you, to me, or anybody.  I told you I wanted you to give him up.”

“You’re fearfully exacting,” she said, modulating her voice softly.

“He’s a cad.  I can’t understand your inviting him.  His very look is an insult, his touch a desecration.  I don’t like the way he paws you.”

“Of course, he—­he means nothing by it,” she said soothingly.  “It’s only his way.”

“But I don’t like his way and I don’t like him.  I’ve told you so a good many times.”

“You make it very difficult for me.  It would have been insulting not to have asked him.  We’ve been very good friends until you came.”

“It’s a pity I came, then.  You’ve got to choose between us.  I’ve told you that before.”

“Why, Jerry, I have chosen,” she said, her voice softening suspiciously.  “How could I ever think of anybody else now that I have you?  It’s so absurd of you to be jealous of Chan.  He’s not like you, of course, and his manner is a little rough, but he really isn’t nearly so terrible a person as you think he is.”  She sighed.  “But if you insist, I suppose I shall have to give him up.”

“Is it painful to you?” he muttered.

She laughed.  “You silly boy, of course not.  I will give him up.  There!  Does that settle that matter?”

“I thought it was settled before.”

“It was—­but—­” She paused.

“I don’t see how you could want to be with a man I don’t like—­”

“I don’t care for him, Jerry, really I don’t.  Won’t you believe me?”

“I’ll believe you when you give him up.”

She sighed again, her voice breaking effectively.

“Oh, dear!  Do you want me to give up all my friends?  And is it quite fair?”

“I haven’t asked you to give up any of your friends, but Lloyd—­”

Well, I’ve given him up, Jerry.  I’ll send him home tonight.  Don’t let’s think of him any more.  I can’t stand having anything come between us again.  I can’t, Jerry.  It makes me so unhappy.  I’ve been wretched since yesterday about Una.  That’s why I came.  I wanted you to know how sorry I am that I spoke to Una the way I did.”

“Are you, Marcia?” His voice had softened suddenly and from the shuffling of his feet I think he took a pace toward her.

“Yes, Jerry dear, contrite.  I simply couldn’t let another hour pass without coming to ask your forgiveness.”

He was weakening.  Perhaps his arm was around her.  I don’t know, but his silence was ominous.