“But that’s so expensive.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Much the same as any of the other places, isn’t it?”
Nelly’s manner became more motherly than ever. She bent forward and touched his arm affectionately.
“You haven’t to keep up any front with me,” she said gently. “I don’t care whether you’re rich or poor or what. I mean, of course I’m awfully sorry you’ve lost your money, but it makes it all the easier for us to be real pals, don’t you think so?”
“Lost my money!”
“Well, I know you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t. I wasn’t going to say anything about it, but, when you talked of the Cosmopolis, I just had to. You lost your money in the same thing Jill Mariner lost hers, didn’t you? I was sure you had, the moment I saw you here. Who cares? Money isn’t everything!”
Astonishment kept Freddie silent for an instant: after that he refrained from explanations of his own free will. He accepted the situation and rejoiced in it. Like many other wealthy and modest young men, he had always had a sneaking suspicion at the back of his mind that any girl who was decently civil to him was so from mixed motives—or more likely, motives that were not even mixed. Well, dash it, here was a girl who seemed to like him although under the impression that he was broke to the wide. It was an intoxicating experience. It made him feel a better chap. It fortified his self-respect.
“You know,” he said, stammering a little, for he found a sudden difficulty in controlling his voice. “You’re a dashed good sort!”
“I’m awfully glad you think so.”
There was a silence—as far, at least, as he and she were concerned. In the outer world, beyond the piece of scenery under whose shelter they stood, stirring things, loud and exciting things, seemed to be happening. Some sort of an argument appeared to be in progress. The rasping voice of Mr Goble was making itself heard from the unseen auditorium. These things they sensed vaguely, but they were too occupied with each other to ascertain details.