‘I told you before, my dear girl. I always get what I want in the end. I knew you’d come in time to see which way your bread was buttered.’

‘It’s lucky for me you haven’t changed your mind,’ said Joyce.

He looked at her suspiciously. With Joyce you never knew quite what she was driving at.

‘You’ll marry me?’

She nodded. ‘As soon as you please.’

‘The sooner, the better, in fact.’ He laughed, looking round the room. Joyce flushed.

‘By the way, there’s a condition.’

‘A condition?’ He looked suspicious again.

‘My dog. He must come with me.’

‘This old scarecrow? You can have any kind of a dog you choose. Don’t spare expense.’

‘I want Terry.’

‘Oh! All right, please yourself.’

Joyce was staring at him.

‘You do know–don’t you–that I don’t love you? Not in the least.’

‘I’m not worrying about that. I’m not thin-skinned. But no hanky-panky, my girl. If you marry me, you play fair.’

The colour flashed into Joyce’s cheeks.

‘You will have your money’s worth,’ she said.

‘What about a kiss now?’

He advanced upon her. She waited, smiling. He took her in his arms, kissing her face, her lips, her neck. She neither stiffened nor drew back. He released her at last.

‘I’ll get you a ring,’ he said. ‘What would you like, diamonds or pearls?’

‘A ruby,’ said Joyce. ‘The largest ruby possible–the colour of blood.’

‘That’s an odd idea.’

‘I should like it to be a contrast to the little half hoop of pearls that was all that Michael could afford to give me.’

‘Better luck this time, eh?’

‘You put things wonderfully, Arthur.’

Halliday went out chuckling.

‘Terry,’ said Joyce. ‘Lick me–lick hard–all over my face and my neck–particularly my neck.’

And as Terry obeyed, she murmured reflectively:

‘Thinking of something else very hard–that’s the only way. You’d never guess what I thought of–jam–jam in a grocer’s shop. I said it over to myself. Strawberry, blackcurrant, raspberry, damson. And perhaps, Terry, he’ll get tired of me fairly soon. I hope so, don’t you? They say men do when they’re married to you. But Michael wouldn’t have tired of me–never–never–never–Oh! Michael…’

II

Joyce rose the next morning with a heart like lead. She gave a deep sigh and immediately Terry, who slept on her bed, had moved up and was kissing her affectionately.

‘Oh, darling–darling! We’ve got to go through with it. But if only something would happen. Terry darling, can’t you help Missus? You would if you could, I know.’

Mrs Barnes brought up some tea and bread and butter and was heartily congratulatory.