Afterwards they had tea together, and Mr. Parfit’s benevolence became tinged with affectionate playfulness. He made jokes, teased his sister, and tried to make Eve enter into a guessing competition as to which fancy cakes each would choose.
She appreciated his discretion when he put her in a taxi, gave the driver four shillings, and packed her off to Bosnia Road. He himself was going to see Jane off at Charing Cross. Also, he and Jane had something to discuss.
“Well, old thing, how does she strike you?”
“I’m a cautious soul, John, but I’m a woman, and we’re quick about other women. She’s the right stuff, even if she’s clever, and a little proud. It doesn’t do a girl any harm to have a little pride. Fine eyes, too, and good style.”
“I knew you’d think that.”
“Did you now? What do you know about women, you great big baby?”
CHAPTER XXX
MORE EXPERIENCES
January and February passed, and Eve’s capital dwindled steadily, with no very obvious prospect of her being able to replenish it. She sold three more small pictures, and had one or two dress designs accepted by a woman’s journal, but these fragments of good fortune were more than counterbalanced by a piece of knavish luck. One wet day, just as it was getting dusk, she had her vanity-bag snatched from her. It contained five pounds that she had drawn from the bank about half an hour before. She never had another glimpse of the bag or of the thief. Her balance had been reduced now to sixteen pounds, and all that she had foreseen in her panic moods seemed likely to be fulfilled.