“I wrote you and asked you to come to the studio for a beano and you never even answered.”
“I didn’t get your letter.”
“No, I know. I went to the hospital to ask for you, and I saw my letter in the rack. Have you chucked the Medical?”
Philip hesitated for a moment. He was ashamed to tell the truth, but the shame he felt angered him, and he forced himself to speak. He could not help reddening.
“Yes, I lost the little money I had. I couldn’t afford to go on with it.”
“I say, I’m awfully sorry. What are you doing?”
“I’m a shop-walker.”
The words choked Philip, but he was determined not to shirk the truth. He kept his eyes on Lawson and saw his embarrassment. Philip smiled savagely.
“If you went into Lynn and Sedley, and made your way into the ‘made robes’ department, you would see me in a frock coat, walking about with a degage air and directing ladies who want to buy petticoats or stockings. First to the right, madam, and second on the left.”
Lawson, seeing that Philip was making a jest of it, laughed awkwardly. He did not know what to say. The picture that Philip called up horrified him, but he was afraid to show his sympathy.