Page:E Nesbit - The Literary Sense.djvu/158

146 the outrage that her indifference was to his love. The outrage of her station's condescension to his was unforgivable.

She went back to her Jack next day. She was passionately glad to see him. "Oh, Jack," she said, "I'll never, never go away from you again!"

But the greengrocer from Kent reeled down the street to the nearest public-house. At closing time he was telling, in muffled, muddled speech, the wondrous tale, how his girl was a real lady, awfully gone on him, pretty as paint, and wore silk dresses every day.

"She's a real lady—she is," he said.

"Ay!" said the chucker out, "we know all about them sort o' ladies. Time, please!"

"I tell you she is—her aunt's a lady of title, and the gal's that gone on me I expect I'll have to marry her to keep her quiet."

"I'll have to chuck you out to keep you quiet," returned the other. "Come on—outside!"