"What!" exclaimed Jimmy, and he felt himself getting onto his feet.

"I've already denied it to Alfred," continued Zoie. "I told him I'd never been in that restaurant without him in all my life, that the waiter had mistaken someone else for me." And again she turned her back upon Jimmy.

"But don't you see," protested Jimmy, "this would all be so very much simpler if you'd just own up to the truth now, before it's too late?"

"It IS too late," declared Zoie. "Alfred wouldn't believe me now, whatever I told him. He says a woman who lies once lies all the time.

He'd think I'd been carrying on with you ALL ALONG."

"Good Lord!" groaned Jimmy as the full realisation of his predicament thrust itself upon him.

"We don't DARE tell him now," continued Zoie, elated by the demoralised state to which she was fast reducing him. "For Heaven's sake, don't make it any worse," she concluded; "it's bad enough as it is."

"It certainly is," agreed Jimmy, and he sank dejectedly into his chair.

"If you DO tell him," threatened Zoie from the opposite side of the table, "I'll say you ENTICED me into the place."

"What!" shrieked Jimmy and again he found himself on his feet.

"I will," insisted Zoie, "I give you fair warning."

He stared at her in absolute horror. "I don't believe you've any conscience at all," he said.

"I haven't," she sniffled. "I'm too miserable." And throwing herself into the nearest armchair she wept copiously at the thought of her many injuries.

Uncertain whether to fly or to remain, Jimmy gazed at her gloomily.

"Well, I'M not laughing myself to death," he said.

For answer Zoie turned upon him vehemently. "I just wish I'd never laid eyes on you, Jimmy," she cried.

Jimmy was wishing the very same thing.

"If I cared about you," she sobbed, "it wouldn't be so bad; but to think of losing my Alfred for----" words failed her and she trailed off weakly,--"for nothing!"

"Thanks," grunted Jimmy curtly. In spite of himself he was always miffed by the uncomplimentary way in which she disposed of him.

His sarcasm was lost upon Zoie. Having finished all she had to say to him, she was now apparently bent upon indulging herself in a first cla.s.s fit of hysterics.

There are critical moments in all of our lives when our future happiness or woe hangs upon our own decision. Jimmy felt intuitively that he was face to face with such a moment, but which way to turn? that was the question. Being Jimmy, and soft-hearted in spite of his efforts to conceal it, he naturally turned the wrong way, in other words, towards Zoie.

"Oh, come now," he said awkwardly, as he crossed to the arm of her chair. "This will soon blow over."

Zoie only sobbed the louder.

"This isn't the first time you and Alfred have called it all off," he reminded her.

Again she sobbed.

Jimmy could never remember quite how it happened. But apparently he must have patted Zoie on the shoulder. At any rate, something or other loosened the flood-gates of her emotion, and before Jimmy could possibly escape from her vicinity she had wheeled round in her chair, thrown her arms about him, and buried her tear-stained face against his waist-coat.

"Good Lord!" exclaimed Jimmy, for the third time that morning, as he glanced nervously toward the door; but Zoie was exclaiming in her own way and sobbing louder and louder; furthermore she was compelling Jimmy to listen to an exaggerated account of her many disappointments in her unreasonable husband. Seeing no possibility of escape, without resorting to physical violence, Jimmy stood his ground, wondering what to expect next. He did not have long to wonder.

CHAPTER V

WITHIN an hour from the time Alfred had entered his office that morning he was leaving it, in a taxi, with his faithful secretary at his side, and his important papers in a bag at his feet. "Take me to the Sherwood," he commanded the driver, "and be quick."

As they neared Alfred's house, Johnson could feel waves of increasing anger circling around his perturbed young employer and later when they alighted from the taxi it was with the greatest difficulty that he could keep pace with him.

Unfortunately for Jimmy, the outer door of the Hardy apartment had been left ajar, and thus it was that he was suddenly startled from Zoie's unwelcome embraces by a sharp exclamation.

"So!" cried Alfred, and he brought his fist down with emphasis on the centre table at Jimmy's back.

Wheeling about, Jimmy beheld his friend face to face with him. Alfred's lips were pressed tightly together, his eyes flashing fire. It was apparent that he desired an immediate explanation. Jimmy turned to the place where Zoie had been, to ask for help; like the traitress that she was, he now saw her flying through her bedroom door. Again he glanced at Alfred, who was standing like a sentry, waiting for the pa.s.s-word that should restore his confidence in his friend.

"I'm afraid I've disturbed you," sneered Alfred.

"Oh, no, not at all," answered Jimmy, affecting a careless indifference that he did not feel and unconsciously shaking hands with the waiting secretary.

Reminded of the secretary's presence in such a distinctly family scene, Alfred turned to him with annoyance.

"Go into my study," he said. "I'll be with you presently. Here's your list," he added and he thrust a long memorandum into the secretary's hand. Johnson retired as un.o.btrusively as possible and the two old friends were left alone. There was another embarra.s.sed silence which Jimmy, at least, seemed powerless to break.

"Well?" questioned Alfred in a threatening tone.

"Tolerably well," answered Jimmy in his most pleasant but slightly nervous manner. Then followed another pause in which Alfred continued to eye his old friend with grave suspicion.

"The fact is," stammered Jimmy, "I just came over to bring Aggie----" he corrected himself--"that is, to bring Zoie a little message from Aggie."

"It seemed to be a SAD one," answered Alfred, with a sarcastic smile, as he recalled the picture of Zoie weeping upon his friend's sleeve.

"Oh no--no!" answered Jimmy, with an elaborate attempt at carelessness.

"Do you generally play the messenger during business hours?" thundered Alfred, becoming more and more enraged at Jimmy's petty evasions.

"Just SOMETIMES," answered Jimmy, persisting in his amiable manner.

"Jimmy," said Alfred, and there was a solemn warning in his voice, "don't YOU lie to me!"

Jimmy started as though shot. The consciousness of his guilt was strong upon him. "I beg your pardon," he gasped, for the want of anything more intelligent to say.

"You don't do it well," continued Alfred, "and you and I are old friends."

Jimmy's round eyes fixed themselves on the carpet.

"My wife has been telling you her troubles," surmised Alfred.

Jimmy tried to protest, but the lie would not come.