"Come along, Horace," she said. "Come!"
But Horace, who seemed fascinated by the spectre that had claimed their attention, still hesitated, and the man, noticing this, half held out one hand and murmured in a husky voice—
"I am starving."
With the words, the scarlet spots in his cheeks deepened to a fiercer hue, and he hung his head like one abruptly overwhelmed with shame.
"For God's sake give me something!" he muttered. "I've—I've never done this before."
Horace's hand went to his waistcoat pocket, but before he could take out a coin Mrs. Errington had decisively intervened.
"Horace, I forbid you," she said.
"Mater!"
"Understand—I forbid you."
She took his arm and they walked on, leaving the man standing by the water-side. He did not follow them or repeat his dismal statement, only let his head drop forward on his bosom, while his fingers twisted themselves convulsively together.