ved the chair away with
her foot, and we began to chatter afresh.

"You are shaved this evening, too," she said; look on the whole a
little better than the last time--that is to say, only just a scrap
better. Don't imagine ... no; the last time you were really shabby, and
you had a dirty rag round your finger into the bargain; and in that
state you absolutely wanted me to go to some place, and take wine with
you--thanks, not me!"

"So it was, after all, because of my miserable appearance that you
would not go with me?" I said.

"No," she replied and looked down. "No; God knows it wasn't. I didn't
even think about it."

"Listen," said I; "you are evidently sitting here labouring under the
delusion that I can dress and live exactly as I choose, aren't you? And
that is just what I can't do; I am very, very poor."

She looked at me. "Are you?" she queried.

"Yes, worse luck, I am."

After an interval.

"Well, gracious, so am I, too," she said, with a cheerful movement of
her head.

Every one of her words intoxicated me, fell on my heart like drops of
wine. She enchanted me with the trick she had of putting her head a
little on one side, and listening when I said anything, and I could
feel her breath brush my face.

"Do you know," I said, "that ... but, now, you mustn't get angry--when
I went to bed last night I settled this arm for you ... so ... as if
you lay on it ... and then I went to sleep."

"Did you? That was lovely!" A pause. "But of course it could only be
from a distance that you would venture to do such a thing, for
otherwise...."

"Don't you believe I could do it otherwise?"

"No, I don't believe it."

"Ah, from me you may expect everything," I said, and I put my arm
around her waist.

"Can I?" was all she said.

It annoyed me, almost wounded me, that she should look upon me as being
so utterly inoffensive. I braced myself up, steeled my heart, and
seized her hand; but she withdrew it softly, and moved a little away
from me. That just put an end to my courage again; I felt ashamed, and
looked out through the window. I was, in spite of all, in far too
wretched a condition; I must, above all, not try to imagine myself any
one in particular. It would have been another matter if I had met her
during the time that I still looked like a respectable human being--in
my old, well-off days when I had sufficient to make an appearance; and
I felt fearfully downcast!

"There now, one can see!" she sa