"You'll never guess what he said. He asked no questions, he took the cigar from his lips and looked at me, and he said, 'I haven't got a bob in the world till my brother, the Great Horatio, sends my monthly allowance along; but if you'll come as far as the next street, I know a chap I can borrow a sovereign from.' Wasn't that just Jimmy all over?"
Christine was laughing, too, now.
"Oh, I can just hear him saying it! I can just see him!" she cried.
"And then what did you do?"
"Well, we went along—to this pal of Jimmy's, and Jimmy borrowed a fiver. He gave me three pounds, and took me along to have a dinner. And—well, we've been pals ever since. A bit of luck for me, wasn't it?"
"I was thinking," said little Christine very earnestly, "that it was a bit of luck for Jimmy."
Sangster grew furiously red. For a moment he could think of nothing to say; he had only told the story in order to soften her towards Jimmy, and in a measure he had succeeded.
Christine walked beside him without speaking for some time; her brown eyes were very thoughtful.
Sangster talked no more of Jimmy; he was too tactful to overdo things. Jimmy was not mentioned between them again till he took her back to the hotel. Then:
"I don't know how to thank you for being so kind to me," she said earnestly. Her brown eyes were lifted confidingly to his face. "But I've been happier this afternoon than—than I've ever been since my mother died."
Sangster gripped her hand hard for a moment.