He
felt Cosgrave plucking at his sleeve, fretfully like a sick child, raised
to a sudden interest.
"I say, Stonehouse, don't you remember?"
"The Circus? Yes, I was just thinking about it. It's not likely to be
the same though."
"Why not? She was a nailer. Oh--but you didn't think so, did you? It
was the woman on the horse--the big barmaid person--I forget her
name--Madame--Madame----"
It was ridiculous--but even now it annoyed him to be reminded of her
essential vulgarity. There was a glamour--almost a halo about her memory
because of all that he had felt for her. A silly boy's passion. But he
would never feel like that again.
"Well, she could ride, anyhow. I don't know what your long-legged
favourite was good for."
"She made me laugh," Cosgrave said. He asked after a moment: "Have you
ever wanted anything so much as you wanted to go to that Circus,
Stonehouse?"
"Oh, yes--crowds of things!"
"I don't believe it somehow. I know I haven't. Oh, I say, I wish I
could want again like that--anything--to get drunk--to go to the
dogs--anything in the world. It's this damnable not wanting. Do you
know I've been trying every night this week to drift into that show--just
to see if it were really that funny kid. I felt I ought to want to.
Why, even the fellows down in Angola had heard of her."
"She's probably well known in hotter places than that," Stonehouse
remarked.
"Yes--so I gathered. That's what made them so keen.
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