“I’m sorry,” and, having found her tongue, added:
“Can you tell me the way to the Flat Iron Market. My aunt won’t take me in.”
“Are you also in disgrace?”
“Yes, sir. I was in service. It was the young master. I did love him, I did really.”
“You had been dismissed when I met you in the train?”
“Yes, sir. They gave me a quarter of an hour to go, without wages, and they are sending on my box. My aunt won’t take me in.”
Again in her eyes was the expression of helplessness and impotence in the face of distress that had so moved him, and once again he melted. He forgot his own situation and was only concerned to see that she should not come to harm or be thrown destitute upon a cold, a busy, harsh, and indifferent world. Upon his inquiry as to the state of her purse, she told him she had only a shilling, and he pressed half a sovereign into her hand. Then he asked her why she wished to find the Flat Iron Market, and she informed him she had an uncle, Mr. Copas, who was there. She had only seen him twice, but he had been kind to her mother when she was alive, although he was not respectable.
They were directed by a policeman, and as they walked Beenham gave her the story of his experience at the police station and how he had accepted the Chief Constable’s ultimatum. And he employed the opportunity to complete his explanation of his extraordinary lapse from decorum.
“You can do silly things when you’re half awake,” said Matilda. “It’s like being in love, isn’t it?”