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Shelah explained Mr. Bradshaw’s place in the world’s work. Rita stood up.

“Let’s all go down to the beach,” she said.

“The beach—in high-heeled slippers?” protested Wilkie.

“I can take them off, can’t I?” Rita demanded. She was moving toward the window.

“Go along,” the star said. “We'll follow later.”

Rita went out.

Without enthusiasm, Wilkie lifted his great bulk from the chair. “That means I go, too,” he explained, and did so.

Shelah turned to Alan Jaynes with a nervous little laugh. “Poor Wilkie—he’s so jealous. And with reason, I’m afraid—at least, he had reason in the old days.”

Jaynes came quickly to her side. “So sorry I couldn’t see you this afternoon. Your headache—it’s better, I trust?”

She nodded. “Much better.”

“I’ve brought you a bit of an offering. It’s hardly worthy of you, of course.” He handed her a corsage bouquet wrapped in tissue-paper.

She unwrapped it. “Lovely,” she said.

“But too late,” remarked Jaynes. “I see you're wearing some one’s orchids.”

Shelah laid his gift on a table. “Yes, Alan.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean———” he began, frowning. “Shelah—it can’t mean that. I—I couldn’t go on without you.”

She faced him. “You'll have to, Alan. I’m so sorry. But I—I can’t marry you.”

His expression clouded. “It’s true, then,” he said.