Peter stood still to watch, amused by the wild vagaries of the wooden hoops. Suddenly a small voice at his elbow spoke.
“It ain’t easy, is it? I’ve thrown a shilling on that there table and not got so much as a penny packet o’ sweets. It’s dis’eartening!”
Peter looked round. At his elbow was a small and ugly girl, possibly the ugliest girl on which it had ever been his fortune to set eyes. Her pale, square face was covered with freckles, her eyes, small and green, were like little slits, her nose—a mere apology for that feature—was a dab in the [Pg 251]middle of her face, her mouth wide and formless.
“Apparently it is not easy,” said Peter politely. And then he removed his eyes from her face, fearing that his astonishment at her plainness might be perceived by her.
She sighed. “I wish I ’adn’t thrown my shilling on that there table. It’s the third year now as I’ve made a fool of myself, and not a penny left for the ’orses nor nothin’. ’Tisn’t as if I were one o’ the girls wot folks treat. ’Oo could, with a face like mine?”
There was no complaint in the remark. It was not even a hint to Peter; it was merely the grave statement of a fact, with the explanation of the reason for it.
“Why,” asked Peter solemnly, “did you throw your money on that table?”
She came a trifle nearer to him, and spoke in a whisper.
“It’s them two things,” she said. “That there vase—the crimson one with the white snake a-curling round it, and the gold clock. I’ve watched ’em now for three years, and me ’eart’s in me mouth lest some one should get the ’oops over. I can’t get away from ’ere, nor enjoy the fair no [Pg 252]’ow for watchin’, so the ’orses and boats wouldn’t be much good even if I ’adn’t throwed that shilling away.” It was poured forth in a rapid undertone, as if the mere mention of her longing might lead a hoop to encircle either of the two coveted treasures.
Peter eyed them gravely. Of course they were unutterably hideous, that went without saying; but there they were, representing the goal—unattainable—of three years’ ambition.