"Soppy me again," was all she said.
"No, darling you," Maurice whispered. "Such a darling, too. I hope Castleton hasn't arrived yet. I want to tell you all over again how frightfully sorry I am."
But when they had walked past the Buddha-like manager who, massive and enigmatical, broods over the entrance to the cafe, they could see Castleton in the corner. It was a pity; for the constraint of a lovers' quarrel, not absolutely adjusted, hung over them still in the presence of a third person before whom they had to simulate ease. Maurice, indeed, was so boisterously cordial that Jenny resented his dramatic ability, and, being incapable of simulation herself, showed plainly all was not perfectly smooth.
"What is the matter with our Jenny to-night?" Castleton inquired.
"Nothing," she answered moodily.
"She feels rather seedy," Maurice explained.
"No, I don't."
"Do you like the opal brooch?" Castleton asked.
"I haven't seen it," Jenny replied.
"I was waiting to give it to her in here," Maurice suggested.