THE    LAST   ARABIAN    NIGHT	545
"Oh, well, don't bother," he told her. "She can do
without you, can't she, just for to-night?"
"Just for to-night, eh? Well, can't you do without me
too, Mister Cheeky?"
"No, I can't. I want somebody to cheer me up/
"Oh, that's it, is it? Thanks for the compliment. Am-
body will do, eh?"
"No, I didn't say that. You know, I didn't."
"Well, you meant it."
"No, I didn't. Reelly, I didn't. Come on. What
d'you say?"
"All right then," she said, turning her perky little
head on one side and smiling. Then she looked serious.
"Listen, though. If we do go, I must pay for myself.
Yes, I must. I believe in that/' she added earnestly, as
if she had thought about it for years and had not just
invented this rule for herself, knowing only too well that
he would be hard up in the near future and that every
extra shilling would make a great difference. "I'll come
if you'll let me pay for myself. There now!"
As they walked down Nathaniel Street, they decided
that it must be one of the big West End picture theatres,
but could not settle which it should be, and argued
pleasantly about it, and she pretended to care more
about it than she actually did and he pretended to care
less; she was the eager, excited, imploring female, and he
was the large, knowing, tolerant, protective male. Out
in the smoky blue and gold of the lighted streets, they
were more at ease than they had been in the house.
Already they may have felt that they were going further
together now than the way to the remotest picture
theatre could take them. Perhaps this was the best day's
work in one or other of their lives; perhaps the worst.