“Saved?” Danby laughed again. “Have you ever heard that the word ‘save’ isn’t in the dictionary of the men who earn their living behind the footlights? I’ve got just enough left to keep me on the road till the end of the summer.”
“And then?”
“And then—the workhouse or the prison.”
“Never, never!” cried the girl. “Never!”
A great thrill ran through the little man’s veins. The emphatic cry was the best thing he had heard for many long, depressing months. The fact that it came from a shabby girl who might be in a worse plight than himself did not seem to matter.
“But what am I to do?” he asked.
The girl did not hesitate.
“Go back to the halls with new and better turns,” she said strongly.
Danby shuddered, and went back, snail-like, into his shell.
“I couldn’t. I couldn’t face ’em. Who’d have me now?”