But she only shook her head.

“I ought to have known; I can’t think now why it is that I never guessed,” she said hopelessly.  “All the other women he has known are so much better than I am.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, don’t say that,” he broke out; there was a sort of horror in his face as he contrasted Cynthia and her friends to this girl.  “You’re ill and run down,” he went on urgently.  “Everything seems wrong when you’re not well.  Will you come out with me?  It’s not raining now, and the air’s beautifully fresh.  I’m longing for a walk myself; I’ve been writing all the morning.  We’ll have some lunch together, and walk in the park afterwards, shall we?”

He thought she was going to refuse; she shook her head.

“Please do,” he urged.  “I want to talk to you; there are so many things I want to say to you.”  He waited a moment.  “You told me once that you liked me,” he submitted whimsically.  “You’ve not gone back on that, have you?”

The ghost of a smile lit her eyes.

“No, but——­”

“Then please come.”

There was a moment’s silence.

“Very well,” said Christine.  Her voice was quite apathetic.  He knew that she was absolutely indifferent as to where she went or what she did.  She looked so broken—­just as if someone had wiped the sunshine out of her life with a ruthless hand.

She went away to dress, and Sangster stood at the window, frowning into the street.

“Infernal young fool!” he said savagely after a moment; but whether he referred to a youth who was just at that moment passing, or to Jimmy Challoner, seemed uncertain.

CHAPTER XIII

CHRISTINE HEARS THE TRUTH

Sangster took Christine to a little out-of-the-way restaurant, where he knew there would not be many people.

He carefully avoided referring again to Jimmy; he talked of anything and everything under the sun to try and distract her attention.  She had declared that she was not hungry; but, to his delight, she ate quite a good lunch.  She liked the restaurant; she had never been in Bohemia before.  She was very interested in an old table Sangster showed her, which was carved all over with the signatures of well-known patrons of the house.  A little flush crept into her pale cheeks; presently she was smiling.

Sangster was cheered; he told himself that she only needed understanding.  He believed that if Jimmy chose, he could convince her that everything was going to be all right in the future; he believed that with a little tact and patience Jimmy could entirely regain her lost confidence.  But patience and Jimmy seemed somehow irreconcilable; Jimmy was too young—­too selfish.  He sighed involuntarily as he looked at Christine.

When they had left the restaurant again, and were walking towards the park, he deliberately began to talk about Jimmy.