There was a moment of awkwardness when they rose from the table.
"I am tired," Christine said when he asked if she would care to go to the drawing-room for a little while. "I should like to go to bed."
"Very well." Jimmy held out his hand. "Good night." He looked at her and quickly away again. "I will come round in the morning."
She raised startled eyes to his face.
"You are not staying here then?"
He coloured a little.
"No; I thought you would prefer that I did not. I shall be at my rooms—if you want me."
"Very well." She just touched the tips of his fingers. The next moment she was walking alone up the wide staircase.
She never slept all night. Though she had felt tired at the end of her journey, she never once closed her eyes now.
She wished she had not come. She hated Jimmy for having persuaded her; she hated Gladys for having practically told her that it was her duty to do as he wished; she hated Jimmy afresh because now, having got her to London, he had gone off and left her.