He felt
his elbow touched, and, looking round with indifference, met the
kind of greeting for which he was prepared. He shook his head and
did not reply; then the sham gaiety of the voice all at once turned
to a very real misery, and the girl began to beg instead of trying
to entice him in the ordinary way. He looked at her again, and was
shocked at the ghastly wretchedness of her daubed face. She was ill,
she said, and could scarcely walk about, but must get money somehow;
if she didn't, her landlady wouldn't let her sleep in the house
again, and she had nowhere else to go to. There could be no mistake
about the genuineness of her story, at all events as far as bodily
suffering went. Waymark contrasted her state with his own, and took
out what money he had in his pocket; it was the change out of a
sovereign which he had received at the theatre, and he gave her it
all. She stared, and did not understand.
"Are you coming with me?" she asked, feeling obliged to make a
hideous attempt at professional coaxing in return for such
generosity.
"Good God, no!" Waymark exclaimed. "Go home and take care of
yourself."
She thanked him warmly, and turned away at once. As his eye followed
her, he was aware that somebody else had drawn near to him from
behind.
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