Poor little Christine! she deserved a better man. He felt acutely conscious of his own unworthiness.
He walked the whole way home. He was dog tired when he let himself into his rooms. Sangster rose from a chair by the fire.
Jimmy stifled an oath under his breath as he shut the door.
Sangster was the last man he wished to see at the present moment. He kept his eyes averted as he came forward.
"Hallo!" he said. "Been here long?"
"All the evening. Thought you'd sure to be in. Costin said you'd be in to dinner, he thought."
"I meant to . . . stayed with the Wyatts, though."
Jimmy helped himself to a whiskey. He knew that Sangster was watching him. His gaze got unbearable. He swung round with sharp impatience. "What the devil are you staring at?" he demanded irritably.
"Nothing. What a surly brute you're getting. Got a cigarette?"
Jimmy threw his case over.