giddy, but at least she's always been chaperoned, except with him. He's the one all right; there's no doubt about it. He's the beginning of the end.”      

       “His own end, yes,” assented Jimmy half to himself. “Now, see here, old man,” he argued, “I'd give that poor devil a chance to explain.”      

       “Explain!” shouted Alfred so sharply that Jimmy quickly retreated. “I wouldn't believe him now if he were one of the Twelve Apostles.”      

       “That's tough,” murmured Jimmy as he saw the last avenue of honourable       escape closed to him.     

       “Tough!” roared Alfred, thinking of himself. “Hah.”      

       “On the Apostles, I mean,” explained Jimmy nervously.     

       Again Alfred paced up and down the room, and again Jimmy tried to think of some way to escape from his present difficulty. It was quite apparent that his only hope lay not in his own candor, but in Alfred's absence. “How long do you expect to be away?” he asked.     

       “Only until I hear from Henri,” said Alfred.     

       “Henri?” repeated Jimmy and again a gleam of hope shone on his dull features. He had heard that waiters were often to be bribed. “Nice fellow, Henri,” he ventured cautiously. “Gets a large salary, no doubt?”      

       “Does he!” exclaimed Alfred, with a certain pride of proprietorship. “No tips could touch Henri, no indeed. He's not that sort of a person.”      

       Again the hope faded from Jimmy's round face.     

       “I look upon Henri as my friend,” continued Alfred enthusiastically. “He speaks every language known to man. He's been in every country in the world. HENRI UNDERSTANDS LIFE.”      

       “LOTS of people UNDERSTAND LIFE,” commented Jimmy dismally, “but SOME people don't APPRECIATE it. They value it too lightly, to MY way of thinking.”      

       “Ah, but you have something to live for,” argued Alfred.     

       “I have indeed; a great deal,” agreed Jimmy, more and more abused at the thought of what he was about to lose.     

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