“Well, boys,” said Soft Sam, “you can stop and see the gals. I’m off. You know where to find me. So long.”
* * * * *
They had had tea at their coffee palace—Huey and Alec.
Huey said he would go upstairs and read. Alec said he would stroll down to Paddy’s Market. But no sooner had Alec gone out than Huey put down his paper, went out in the street, and made a straight line for the Golden Bar. He turned the corner and was about to enter, when he came nearly full-butt on Alec.
There was no explanation. They knew they had lied to each other, and they felt, not ashamed of themselves, but sore that the other should know. They entered together and drank together, and played dominoes to pass the time, while they watched each other and Bertha behind the bar, and she smiled on both of them when they came for drinks, with a uniform sweetness.
And the lads drank love and hate as they sat together, and though they spoke in the usual friendly tone, they knew the old friendliness and mutual confidence was buried for ever.
Where they sat the two young men could hear most of what Bertha said to the numerous customers that came to her. Amongst these was a small crowd of flash young men, full of loud talk and coarse jokes. One of them, leaning on the bar, looked up at Bertha—
“I tell you what it is, my dear. Say the word, and I’ll marry you.”
Bertha turned on him contemptuously—
“Marry you? You must think I want a husband badly. And what have you to marry on?”