'I should have been angry if I thought you had meant it.'

'Oh, I meant it right enough.'

'But with what object?'

'Just to get level with you, Frankie, if you threw me over too completely. Hang it all, she has three hundred and sixty-five days in the year! Am I to be grudged a single hour?'

'Well, Violet, we won't quarrel about it. You see I came all right. Pull up your chair and have some tea.'

'You haven't even looked at me yet. I won't take any tea until you do.'

She stood up in front of him, and pushed up her veil. It was a face and a figure worth looking at. Hazel eyes, dark chestnut hair, a warm flush of pink in her cheeks, the features and outline of an old Grecian goddess, but with more of Juno than of Venus, for she might perhaps err a little upon the side of opulence. There was a challenge and defiance dancing in those dark devil-may-care eyes of hers which might have roused a more cold-blooded man than her companion. Her dress was simple and dark, but admirably cut. She was clever enough to know that a pretty woman should concentrate attention upon herself, and a plain one divert it to her adornments.

'Well?'

'By Jove, Violet, you look splendid.'

'Well?'

'The muffins are getting cold.'

'Frankie, what IS the matter with you?'

'Nothing is the matter.'

'Well?'

She put out her two hands and took hold of his. That well-remembered sweet, subtle scent of hers rose to his nostrils. There is nothing more insidious than a scent which carries suggestions and associations. 'Frankie, you have not kissed me yet.'

She turned her smiling face upwards and sideways, and for an instant he leaned forward towards it. But he had himself in hand again in a moment. It gave him confidence to find how quickly and completely he could do it. With a laugh, still holding her two hands, he pushed her back into the chair by the table.

'There's a good girl!' said he. 'Now we'll have some tea, and I'll give you a small lecture while we do so.'

'You are a nice one to give lectures.'

'Oh, there's no such preacher as a converted sinner.'

'You really are converted then?'

'Rather. Two lumps, if I remember right. You ought to do this, not I. No milk, and very strong--how you keep your complexion I can't imagine. But you do keep it; my word, you do! Now please don't look so crossly at me.'

Her flushed cheeks and resentful eyes had drawn forth the remonstrance.

'You ARE changed,' she said, with surprise as well as anger in her voice.

'Why, of course I am. I am married.'

'For that matter Charlie Scott is married.'

'Don't give Charlie Scott away.'

'I think I give myself away. So you have lost all your love for me. I thought it was to last for ever.'

'Now, do be sensible, Violet.'

'Sensible! How I loathe that word! A man only uses it when he is going to do something cold-blooded and mean. It is always the beginning of the end.'

'What do you want me to do?'

'I want you to be my own Frankie--just the same as before. Ah do, Franck--don't leave me! You know I would give any of them up for you. And you have a good influence over me--you have really! You call't think how hard I am with other people. Ask Charlie Scott. He will tell you. I've been so different since I have lost sight of you. Now, Frankie, don't be horrid to me! Kiss and be nice!' Again her soft warm hand was upon his, and the faint sweet smell of violets went to his blood like wine. He jumped up, lit another cigarette, and paced about the room.

'You shan't have a cigarette, Frankie.'

'Why not?'

'Because you said once it helped you to control yourself. I don't want you to control yourself. I want you to feel as I feel.'

'Do sit down, like a good girl!'

'Cigarette out!'

'Don't be absurd, Violet!'

'Come, out with it, sir.'

'No, no, leave it alone!'

She had snatched it from his lips and thrown it into the grate.

'What is the use of that? I have a case full.'

'They shall all follow the first.'

'Well, then, I won't smoke.'

'I'll see that you don't.'

'Well, what the better are you for that?'

'Now, be nice.'

'Go back to your chair and have some more tea.'

'Oh, bother the tea!'

'Well, I won't speak to you unless you sit down and behave yourself.'

'There now! Speak away.'

'Look here, dear Violet, you must not talk about this any more. Some things are possible and some are impossible. This is absolutely, finally impossible. We can never go back upon the past. It is finished and done with.'

'Then what did you come here for?'

'To bid you good-bye.'

'A Platonic good-bye.'

'Of course.'

'In a private room at Mariani's.'

'Why not?'

She laughed bitterly.

'You were always a little mad, Frankie.'

He leaned earnestly over the table.

'Look here, Violet, the chances are that we shall never meet again.'

'It takes two to say that.'

'Well, I mean that after to-day I should not meet you again. If you were not quite what you are it would be easier. But as it is I find it a little too much of a test. No, don't mistake me or think that I am weakening. That is impossible. But all the same I don't want to go through it again.'

'So sorry if I have upset you.'

He disregarded her irony.

'We have been very good friends, Violet. Why should we part as enemies?'

'Why should we part at all?'

'We won't go back over that. Now do please look facts in the face and help me to do the right thing, for it would be so much easier if you would help me. If you were a very good and kind girl you would shake my hand, like any other old pal, and wish me joy of my marriage. You know that I should do so if I knew that you were going to be married.'

But the lady was not to be so easily appeased. She took her tea in silence or answered his remarks with monosyllables, while the occasional flash of her dark eyes as she raised them was like the distant lightning which heralds the storm. Suddenly, with a swift rustle of skirts, she was between the door and his chair.

'Now, Frankie, we have had about enough of this nonsense,' said she. 'Don't imagine that you are going to get out of this thing so easily. I've got you, and I'll keep you.'

He faced round in his chair and looked helplessly at her with a hand upon each knee.