“He seemed to pull himself together with a start. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I forgot. Waiter, send a bottle of champagne over to that table and some sandwiches.’
“By the time one’s got to my age one’s learnt not to be surprised at anything. ‘Gee, girls,’ I said, ‘but it’s a party!’ And I followed him across and began to chatter about old times. I thought that was what he wanted, to be made to feel young again. But I soon saw that he was not listening to what I was saying, that he had something of his own to say, but didn’t know how to say it, so I just chattered on till he was ready.
“It came, all of a heap, like an explosion, right across one of my best stories.
“‘Pussy, look here—I’m ... well, I’m not rich, but I want to do something for you. I want to—may I give you an allowance of two pounds a week?’
“I sat back on my chair flabergasted, absolutely. It was five years since anyone had made me that sort of offer.
“‘Well,’ I said, ‘the old lady’s a bit weatherbeaten, but what there is of her is good.’
“He shook his hand; quite a stage gesture, quietly in front of me.
“‘Oh, no, no, no,’ he said. ‘Please don’t misunderstand me. I didn’t mean anything like that—as a present, simply.’
“I tried him with a dead straight glance.
“‘Now, look here, my lad,’ I said, ‘cough it up. What’s it all about? People don’t give things for nothing—not in this world, any way.’