“Probably I remember too vividly, that's all.... Anyway, I'm a fool, Rosaline, because you're a nice girl.”
There were steps on the plank that led to the shore. A shawl over her head and a big bundle under her arm, the old woman came up to them, panting wheezily. She looked from one to the other, trying to make out their faces in the dark.
“It's a danger... like that... youth,” she muttered between hard short breaths.
“Did you find the clothes?” asked Andrews in a casual voice.
“Yes. That leaves you forty-five francs out of your money, when I've taken out for your food and all that. Does that suit you?”
“Thank you very much for your trouble.”
“You paid for it. Don't worry about that,” said the old woman. She gave him the bundle. “Here are your clothes and the forty-five francs. If you want, I'll tell you exactly what each thing cost.”
“I'll put them on first,” he said, with a laugh.
He climbed down the ladder into the cabin.
Putting on new, unfamiliar-shaped clothes made him suddenly feel strong and joyous. The old woman had bought him corduroy trousers, cheap cloth shoes, a blue cotton shirt, woollen socks, and a second-hand black serge jacket. When he came on deck she held up a lantern to look at him.