"
It was very transparent. He tried to look up at his companion boldly and
innocently. But the light from the street lamp fell into his strange
blue eyes, with their look of young and anxious hopefulness, and made
them blink. Robert Stonehouse laughed. He knew what was in Cosgrave's
mind, and it seemed to him half comic and half pathetic and rather
irritating.
"I don't suppose you have enough to pay for supper, anyway," he said
roughly, "or you'll go without your lunch to-morrow. Don't be an idiot.
Look after yourself and I'll look after myself. Besides, if you think
I'm not going to have a square meal to-night you're enormously mistaken.
I'm going to dine well--where you'll never Set your foot, not until
you're earning more than 250 pounds a year, at any rate."
"Word of honour?"
"Oh, word of honour, of course."
A shy relief came into the pinched and freckled face.
"Oh, well then--but I do want you to meet all the same; you see, she'd
like it--she knows all about you. I'm always bragging about you.
Perhaps I could bring her round--if Miss Forsyth wouldn't mind--if she's
well enough."
Robert Stonehouse half turned away, as though shrinking from an
unwelcome, painful touch.
"She's all right."
"Then may we come? I'm not afraid of Miss Forsyth. She's an
understanding person. She won't think people common because of their
aitches. Give her my love, won't you, Robert. And good night."
"Oh, good night!" He added quickly, sullenly: "You look blue with cold.
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