"Doesn't she love you?" said Aaron to Jim amused, indicating Josephine. "I thought you were engaged."
"Her!" leered Jim vindictively, glancing at Josephine. "She doesn't love me."
"Is that true?" asked Robert hastily, of Josephine.
"Why," she said, "yes. Why should he make me say out here that I don't love him!"
"Got you my girl," said Jim.
"Then it's no engagement?" said Robert.
"Listen to the row fools make, rushing in," said Jim maliciously.
"No, the engagement is broken," said Josephine.
"World coming to pieces bit by bit," said Lilly. Jim was twisting in his chair, and looking like a Chinese dragon, diabolical. The room was uneasy.
"What gives you such a belly-ache for love, Jim?" said Lilly, "or for being loved? Why do you want so badly to be loved?"
"Because I like it, damn you," barked Jim. "Because I'm in need of it."
None of them quite knew whether they ought to take it as a joke. It was just a bit too real to be quite pleasant.
"Why are you such a baby?" said Lilly. "There you are, six foot in length, have been a cavalry officer and fought in two wars, and you spend your time crying for somebody to love you. You're a comic."
"Am I though?" said Jim. "I'm losing life. I'm getting thin."
"You don't look as if you were losing life," said Lilly.
"Don't I? I am, though. I'm dying."
"What of? Lack of life?"
"That's about it, my young cock. Life's leaving me."
"Better sing Tosti's Farewell to it."
Jim who had been sprawling full length in his arm-chair, the centre of interest of all the company, suddenly sprang forward and pushed his face, grinning, in the face of Lilly.
"You're a funny customer, you are," he said.
Then he turned round in his chair, and saw Clariss sitting
