ster. Robert Stonehouse still
kept his hands thrust into his pockets, and the position, gave his
heavy-shouldered figure a hunched fighting look, as though he had set
himself to stride out against a tearing storm. He took no notice of
Cosgrave, who talked on rapidly, stammering a little and scrambling for
his words. The wind blew his hair on end, and he walked with his small
wistful nose lifted to the invisible stars.

"You see, I can't tell anyone at home about her. It's not as though she
were even what people call a lady. (Oh, I'm perfectly sane--I don't
humbug myself.) Mother'd have a fit, and the Pater only looks at that
kind of thing in one way--his own particularly disgusting way. She drops
her aitches sometimes. But she's good, and she's pretty as a flower. I
met her at a dance club. I'd never been to such a place before. And
then one evening it suddenly came over me that I wanted to be among a lot
of people who were having a good time. So I plunged. You pay sixpence,
you know, and everybody dances with everybody. Of course I can't dance.
She saw me hanging round and looking glum, I suppose, and she was nice to
me. She taught me a few steps, and I told her about the exam, and how
worried I was about it, and we became friends. I've never had a
girl-friend before. It's amazing. And she's different, anyway----
She's on the stage--in the chorus to begin with--but you'd think they'd
given her a lead, she's so happy about it. That's what I love about her.
Everything seems jolly to her. She enjoys things like a kid--a 'bus
ride, a cinema, our little suppers together. She loves just being alive,
you know. It's extraordinary--I say, are you listening, Stonehouse?"

"I didn't know you wanted me to listen. I thought you wanted to talk. I
was thinking of an operation I saw once--you wouldn't understand--it was
a ticklish job, and the man lost his head. He tried to hide it, but I
knew, and he saw I knew. A man like that oughtn't to operate."

"And did the other fellow die?"

"Oh, yes. But he would have died anyway, probably. It wasn't that that
mattered. It was losing his nerve like that."

"If I saw an operation," Cosgrave said humbly, "I should be sick."

Stonehouse had not heard. They reached the bridge in silence, and under
a street lamp stopped to take leave of one another. It was their
customary walk and the customary ending, and each wondered in his
different way how it was that they