"_Ca ne va pas_. The chief guest. Ah, no! That is not kind. A
birthday--_c'est une chose bien serieuse, voyons_. Who knows? Per'aps
you never 'ave another chance--and then you 'ave remorse--'orrible,
terrible remorse. Or do you never 'ave remorse either, _Monsieur le
docteur_?"

"No--not yet."

"You must not run ze risk, then."

He thought savagely.

"If I had a diamond stud she would make me give it her."

He took a shilling from his pocket and laid it gravely in the midst of
her trophies.

"Is that enough?"

And then before he could draw back she had kissed him between the eyes.

"_Quite_, then. I keep it for a mascot, and you will remember
to-morrow morning, when you are ver' grave and important with some poor
frightened patient, that Gyp Labelle kiss you last night, and that you
are not different from ze others, after all. And I will take my
shilling from under my pillow, and say: 'Poor Gyp, that's what you're
worth, my friend!'"

"He doesn't know you yet."