I have some in my pocket.

And by the by," he added, glancing at the clock, "where is your other guest?
It is ten minutes past eight, and I can hear your chafing-dish sizzling." She threw back the curtain and took his arm.

The table was laid for two.

He looked at it in bewilderment and then back at her.
"He has disappointed you ?" She smiled up at him.
"He has disappointed me many, many times," she said, "but not to-night." "I don't--understand," he faltered.
"I think you do," she answered.
He took the chair opposite to hers.

The chafing-dish was between them.
He was filled with a curious sense of unreality.