"Oh! yes, let's," she cried eagerly, her eyes sparkling.
"But who's to pay for the lunch?" he asked gloomily. "Drew has evidently forgotten us, and I literally haven't a penny. I had five pounds in my pocket-book."
Her eyes danced with fun.
"You've got to begin living on me, Jerry," she cried.
"Don't!" There was something in his voice that caused her mood instantly to change.
"Oh, my dear!" she cried, "you mustn't feel like that."
For some moments there was silence, Beresford gazing gloomily at the end of his cigarette, she watching him anxiously.
"Why do you call me Jerry?" he asked at length, looking up and smiling at her a little wanly, she thought.
"I've always called you that in my own mind," she said. "Ever since I was sitting on that gate and you laughed."
"But why?" he persisted.
"I don't know," she shook her head vigorously. "You'll learn never to ask me why," she added, with a swift upward glance from under her lashes. "I'm the maddest creature that ever was, once I let myself go." Then with a swift change of mood she burst out, "Oh, Jerry, do try and understand me! No one ever has, and don't, please don't, ever hurt me." She looked across at him with eager, pleading eyes.
