"A very good reason for relaxing his sweethearting."
"It was. He never went to Stepney Green on a week night."
"But you always did."
"No—not every night."
"You didn't go in?"
"Never. She wouldn't permit my visits. She was a girl of strong character. She always reminded me of Flora Macdonald."
"Another lady of your acquaintance?"
"A lady I know better than the shadows who surround me, who is more real to me than the women who pester me for the price of apartments. Jessie Dymond, too, was of the race of heroines. Her eyes were clear blue, two wells with Truth at the bottom of each. When I looked into those eyes my own were dazzled. They were the only eyes I could never make dreamy." He waved his hand as if making a pass with it. "It was she who had the influence over me."
"You knew her, then?"
"Oh, yes. I knew Tom from the old New Pork Herald days, and when I first met him with Jessie hanging on his arm he was quite proud to introduce her to a poet. When he got on he tried to shake me off."