He had a stick with an ivory top that was as yellow and cracked with age as an old charwoman’s face. She looked at it for a long time, and then she looked at him.
“Why,” she cried, “your eyes are wet!”
“I know,” said the lean young man fiercely. “And I don’t give a damn. For the love of God, am I such a fool that I wouldn’t be crying for the happiness of knowing you are in the world!”
“Well,” said Miss Wych, “I shall probably be crying myself at any moment. But first of all I must tell you a story.”
“Won’t you marry me instead?” pleaded the young stranger.
“I will tell you a story,” said Miss Wych gravely, and she began at once.
IV
“I was born,” said Miss Wych, “in a small town in the north of England which would have been the ugliest town in the world if there hadn’t been uglier ones all round it. My mother died when I was quite young, and when I was nineteen my father died; but I did not mind being alone half so much as you might think, because I was very ambitious. So, with the few pounds my father had left, I came to London to try my fortune on the stage. I had an aunt who was once an actress in Birmingham, and that was why I thought first of all of the stage. And people said I was pretty.
“In that ugly town there was a boy who loved me. His name was George and he was a clerk in an auctioneer’s office, but he wanted to be a farmer. When my father died George asked me to marry him, but I said I couldn’t do that and explained about my ambitions and how I would first of all like to have a try at being something in the world. You see, it isn’t only grown-ups who have dreams. Besides, George was poor, and however would we live if we did get married?
“He came to see me soon after I had settled in London. I told him I was studying acting at the Academy of Dramatic Arts, and also I told him that I loved him. Of course, I wouldn’t have told him that if he hadn’t asked me. But I thought I did. I was only nineteen and a bit, and he was so strong and serious, and as fair as you are dark, and when he was almost too serious to speak the tip of his nose would quiver in a lovely funny way.