That was, I think, on a Monday.  Tufik’s steamer sailed on Thursday.  On Tuesday Aggie and I went shopping; and in a spirit of repentance—­for we felt we were not solving Tufik’s question but getting rid of him—­we bought him a complete new outfit.  He almost disgraced us by kissing our hands in the store, and while we were buying him some ties he disappeared—­to come back later with the rims of his eyes red from weeping.  His gentle soul was touched with gratitude.  Aggie had to tell him firmly that if he kissed any more hands he would get his ears boxed.

The clerks in the store were all interested, and two or three cash-boys followed us round and stood, open-mouthed, staring at us.  Neither Aggie nor I knew anything about masculine attire, and Tufik’s idea was a suit, with nothing underneath, a shirt-front and collar of celluloid, and a green necktie already tied and hooking on to his collar-button.  He was dazed when we bought him a steamer trunk and a rug, and disappeared again, returning in a few moments with a small paper bag full of gumdrops.  We were quite touched.

That, as I say, was on Tuesday.  Tufik had been sleeping in Tish’s guest-room since his desperate attempt at suicide, and we sent his things to Tish’s apartment.  That evening Tufik asked permission to spend the night with a friend in the restaurant business—­a Damascan.  Tish let him go against my advice.

“He’ll eat a lot of that Syrian food,” I objected, “and get sick and miss his boat, and we’ll have the whole thing over again!”

But Tish was adamant.  “It’s his last night,” she said, “and he has promised not to smoke any cigarettes and I’ve given him two pepsin tablets.  This is the land of the free, Lizzie.”

We were to meet Tufik at the station next morning and we arranged a lunch for him to eat on the train, Aggie bringing fried chicken and I sandwiches and cake.  Tish’s domestic arrangements being upset, she supplied fruit, figs and dates mostly, to make him think of home.

The train left early, and none of us felt very cheerful at having to be about.  Aggie sat in the station and sneezed; Tish had a pain above her eye and sat by a heater.  We had the luncheon in a large shoebox, wrapped in oiled paper to keep it moist.

He never appeared!  The train was called, filled up, and left.  People took to staring at us as we sat there.  Aggie sneezed and Tish held her eye.  And no Tufik!  In a sort of helpless, breakfastless rage we called a taxicab and went to Tish’s.  No one said much.  We were all thinking.

We were hungry; so we spread out the shoebox lunch on one of the Cluny-lace covers and ate it, mostly in silence.  The steamer trunk and the rug had gone.  We let them go.  They might go to Jerusalem, as far as we were concerned!  After we had eaten,—­about eleven o’clock, I think,—­Tish got up and surveyed the apartment.  Then, with a savage gleam in her eye, she whisked off all the fancy linens, the Cluny laces, the hemstitched bedspreads, and piled them in a heap on the floor.  Aggie and I watched her in silence.  She said nothing, but kicked the whole lot into the bottom of a cupboard.  When she had slammed the door, she turned and faced us grimly.