"I wonder if that poor lad ever thinks of me, 'after so many years and so many changes?'" murmured Electra, musingly.
"I don't know. Tell me his name, and then perhaps I can answer your question. I have roamed around the world a good deal and seen a great many different sorts of people. Who knows but I may have met your poor lad? Let us have his name," said Victor, gravely.
They were both, to use a household phrase, "beating about the bush."
"Oh, he was too poor to own a name! But he was cook's boy on board a merchantman, and they called him 'Galley Vick.' I never knew him by any other name. Did you ever see him at all?"
"Oh, yes, I've seen him! A good-for-nothing little vagabond he was! No, I don't suppose he ever dares to think about such a fine young lady as you are. But he cherishes the memory of a poor little girl he once knew in Rat Alley, New York. And only the day before yesterday, when I happened to be with him, he was saying how much he would give to know what had become of that poor little girl."
"Yes, it was very nice of him to remember her," said Electra, musingly.
"You say that you knew the poor lad in New York. Perhaps, as they were so much together, you may have known the poor little girl also?" said Victor.
"I can not tell you unless you give me her name. There were so many poor little girls in New York," answered Electra, shaking her head.
"She, like the boy, was too poor then to own a name. They called her 'Sal's Kid.' I never knew her by any other name," answered Victor.
And then their eyes met, and both laughed and impulsively put out their hands, which were then clasped together.