With a spontaneous movement he held out his hand. "Good, then I may see you sometimes. Good-bye."
She held up her face expectantly and he kissed her on the lips.
"Good-bye again. You're quite alright now?"
"Yes, sir."
"Dash it! Drop the sir. Can I bring you out some food?"
"No, thank you."
"Well, good-bye. Come over and look me up at the works when you've time, will you?"
"Yes," she answered. She turned and went away. He stood looking after her as she went away down the long moonlit street. He stood at the mouth of the "close" (the common entrance to a number of flats), his latchkey at his lips, whistling softly, in doubt. Suddenly he started off at a run after her. She turned quickly, grasping her cudgel, at the sound of his footsteps.
"Look here, I'll let you into my digs, my rooms, you know, and you can stay there till the morning. I'll stroll around."
"No!" she answered, not aggressively, but quite decisively.