"Oh, is that all?" answered Jimmy, with a sigh of relief. "Just another little family tiff," he was unable to conceal a feeling of thankfulness.

"What's up?"

Zoie measured Jimmy with a dangerous gleam in her eyes. She resented the patronising tone that he was adopting. How dare he be cheerful when she was so unhappy--and because of him, too? She determined that his self-complacency should be short-lived.

"Alfred has found out that I lied about the luncheon," she said, weighing her words and their effect upon Jimmy.

"What luncheon?" stuttered Jimmy, feeling sure that Zoie had suddenly marked him for her victim, but puzzled as to what form her persecution was about to take.

"What luncheon?" repeated Zoie, trying apparently to conceal her disgust at his dulness. "OUR luncheon yesterday."

"Why did you LIE," asked Jimmy, his eyes growing rounder and rounder with wonder.

"I didn't know he KNEW," answered Zoie innocently.

"Knew what?" questioned Jimmy, more and more befogged.

"That I'd eaten with a man," concluded Zoie impatiently. Then she turned her back upon Jimmy and again dashed up and down the room occupied with her own thoughts.

It was certainly difficult to get much understanding out of Zoie's disjointed observations, but Jimmy was doing his best. He followed her restless movements about the room with his eyes, and then ventured a timid comment.

"He couldn't object to your eating with me."

"Oh, couldn't he?" cried Zoie, and she turned upon him with a look of contempt. "If there's anything that he DOESN'T object to," she continued, "I haven't found it out yet." And with that she threw herself in a large arm chair near the table, and left Jimmy to draw his own conclusions.

Jimmy looked about the room as though expecting aid from some unseen source; then his eyes sought the floor. Eventually they crept to the tip of Zoie's tiny slipper as it beat a nervous tattoo on the rug. To save his immortal soul, Jimmy could never help being hypnotised by Zoie's small feet. He wondered now if they had been the reason of Alfred's first downfall. He recalled with a sigh of relief that Aggie's feet were large and rea.s.suring. He also recalled an appropriate quotation: "The path of virtue is not for women with small feet," it ran. "Yes, Aggie's feet are undoubtedly large," he concluded. But all this was not solving Zoie's immediate problem; and an impatient cough from her made him realise that something was expected of him.

"Why did you lunch with me," he asked, with a touch of irritation, "if you thought he wouldn't like it?"

"I was hungry," snapped Zoie.

"Oh," grunted Jimmy, and in spite of his dislike of the small creature his vanity resented the bald a.s.sertion that she had not lunched with him for his company's sake.

"I wouldn't have made an engagement with you of course," she continued, with a frankness that vanquished any remaining conceit that Jimmy might have brought with him. "I explained to you how it was at the time. It was merely a case of convenience. You know that."

Jimmy was beginning to see it more and more in the light of an inconvenience.

"If you hadn't been in front of that horrid old restaurant just when I was pa.s.sing," she continued, "all this would never have happened. But you were there, and you asked me to come in and have a bite with you; and I did, and there you are."

"Yes, there I am," a.s.sented Jimmy dismally. There was no doubt about where he was now, but where was he going to end? That was the question.

"See here," he exclaimed with fast growing uneasiness, "I don't like being mixed up in this sort of thing."

"Of course you'd think of yourself first," sneered Zoie. "That's just like a man."

"Well, I don't want to get your husband down on me," argued Jimmy evasively.

"Oh, I didn't give YOU away," sneered Zoie. "YOU needn't worry," and she fixed her eyes upon him with a scornful expression that left no doubt as to her opinion that he was a craven coward.

"But you said he'd 'found out,'" stammered Jimmy.

"He's found out that I ate with a MAN," answered Zoie, more and more aggrieved at having to employ so much detail in the midst of her distress. "He doesn't know it was you."

"But Zoie----" protested Jimmy.

She lifted a small hand, begging him to spare her further questions.

It was apparent that she must explain each aspect of their present difficulty, with as much patience as though Jimmy were in reality only a child. She sank into her chair and then proceeded, with a martyred air.

"You see it was like this," she said. "Alfred came into the restaurant just after we had gone out and Henri, the waiter who has taken care of him for years, told him that I had just been in to luncheon with a gentleman."

Jimmy shifted about on the edge of his chair, ill at ease.

"Now if Alfred had only told me that in the first place," she continued, "I'd have known what to say, but he didn't. Oh no, he was as sweet as could be all through breakfast and last night too, and then just as he was leaving this morning, I said something about luncheon and he said, quite casually, 'Where did you have luncheon YESTERDAY, my dear?' So I answered quite carelessly, 'I had none, my love.' Well, I wish you could have seen him. He called me dreadful things. He says I'm the one thing he can't endure."

"What's that?" questioned Jimmy, wondering how Alfred could confine himself to any "ONE thing."

"He says I'm a liar!" shrieked Zoie tearfully.

"Well, aren't you?" asked Jimmy.

"Of course I am," declared Zoie; "but why shouldn't I be?" She looked at Jimmy with such an air of self-approval that for the life of him he could find no reason to offer. "You know how jealous Alfred is," she continued. "He makes such a fuss about the slightest thing that I've got out of the habit of EVER telling the TRUTH." She walked away from Jimmy as though dismissing the entire matter; he shifted his position uneasily; she turned to him again with mock sweetness. "I suppose YOU told AGGIE all about it?" she said.

Jimmy's round eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped lower. "I--I--don't believe I did," he stammered weakly. "I didn't think of it again."

"Thank heaven for that!" concluded Zoie with tightly pressed lips. Then she knotted her small white brow in deep thought.

Jimmy regarded her with growing uneasiness. "What are you up to now?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," mused Zoie, "BUT YOU'RE NOT GOING TO TELL AGGIE--that's ONE SURE thing." And she pinned him down with her eyes.

"I certainly will tell her," a.s.serted Jimmy, with a wag of his very round head. "Aggie is just the one to get you out of this."

"She's just the one to make things worse," said Zoie decidedly. Then seeing Jimmy's hurt look, she continued apologetically: "Aggie MEANS all right, but she has an absolute mania for mixing up in other people's troubles. And you know how THAT always ends."

"I never deceived my wife in all my life," declared Jimmy, with an air of self approval that he was far from feeling.

"Now, Jimmy," protested Zoie impatiently, "you aren't going to have moral hydrophobia just when I need your help!"

"I'm not going to lie to Aggie, if that's what you mean," said Jimmy, endeavouring not to wriggle under Zoie's disapproving gaze.

"Then don't," answered Zoie sweetly.

Jimmy never feared Zoie more than when she APPEARED to agree with him.

He looked at her now with uneasy distrust.

"Tell her the truth," urged Zoie.

"I will," declared Jimmy with an emphatic nod.

"And I'LL DENY IT," concluded Zoie with an impudent toss of her head.