CHAPTER VIII

THE SECOND ENGAGEMENT

Out in the night Jimmy Challoner stood for a moment in the darkness, not knowing where to go or what to do.

He had had a bad shock.  He could have borne it if she had only thrown him over for that other man; but that she should have thought it worth while to lie to him about it struck him to the soul.  She had made a fool of him—­an utter and complete fool; he would never forgive her as long as he lived.

After a moment he walked on.  He carried his hat in his hand.  The cool night air fanned his hot forehead.

He had lost everything that had made life worth living; that was his first passionate thought.  Nobody wanted him—­nobody cared a hang what became of him; he told himself that he could quite understand poor devils who jumped off bridges.

He went into the first restaurant he came to, and ordered a neat brandy; that made him feel better, and he ordered a second on the strength of it.  The first shock had passed; anger took its place.

He would never forgive her; all his life he would never forgive her; she was not worth a thought.  She had never been worth loving.

She was a heartless, scheming woman; little Christine Wyatt had more affection in the clasp of her hand than Cynthia had in the whole of her beautiful body.

The thought of Christine recalled Sangster’s words.

Sangster was a fool; he did not know what he was talking about.  Christine and he had been sweethearts as children certainly, but that anything more could ever exist between them was absurd.

But he began to remember the little flush that always crept into Christine’s face when she saw him, the expression of her beautiful eyes; and the memory gave him back some of his lost self-confidence.  Christine liked him, at all events; Christine would never have behaved as Cynthia had done . . .  Christine. . . .  Jimmy Challoner hailed a passing taxi, and gave the address of the hotel where Christine and her mother were staying.

His desire for sympathy drove him there; his desire to be with someone who liked his company.  He was bruised all over by the treatment he had received from Cynthia Farrow; he wanted balm poured on his wounds.

The hall porter told him that Mrs. Wyatt was out, but that he thought the young lady——­

“It’s Miss Wyatt I wish to see,” said Jimmy impatiently.

After a moment he was asked to come upstairs.  He knew the Wyatts had a private sitting-room.  Christine was there by the fire when he entered.

“Jimmy,” she said eagerly.

Jimmy Challoner went forward with outstretched hand.

“I hope you don’t mind my coming again so soon; but I was bored—­thoroughly fed-up,” he explained stumblingly.

Christine looked radiant.  She had not yet learned to disguise her true feelings.  Jimmy was still holding her hand; she tried gently to free it.