‘Oh?’

‘Yes.’ Bob Harris blushed nervously, and wriggled his neck as if his collar was strangling him. He was a tall, thin, colourless fellow, Bob was; younger than Dave, but older looking by reason of his shrunken, melancholy countenance. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I’m—I’m fair in love—that’s straight!’

Dave regarded him dubiously.

‘I haven’t told her yet—’

‘Told who?’ Dave interrupted sharply.

Bob Harris winked, without the least appearance of mirth or slyness.

‘Why, Nell Wyatt, o’course. I thought you’d ha’ noticed.’

‘Noticed what?’ demanded Dave, gruffly.

‘Oh—I dunno! I’ve loved that gal, though, ever since I fust see ’er. I was fair struck all of a heap right off. I ain’t talked about it—it—well, it seems rather silly like, don’t it? I ain’t a lady’s man neither, I ain’t. But I made sure you’d ha’ noticed it.’

Dave shook his head without speaking.

‘D’yer think she’s guessed it? I suppose she ain’t never give you no hint, like? No? I rather fancy she has guessed, though, an’—sometimes I think it’s all right, and sometimes I think she don’t care no more for me than a brass farden. She—she’s never arst you nothing about me?’

Dave shook his head again and said ‘No’, and Bob Harris was too self-absorbed to be startled by the tone in which he said it.

‘She thinks a deal o’you, Dave,’ Bob resumed, ‘an’ she praised me once, she did, because she said I was a decent sort of cove to you; something like that. I’ve come up with her odd times when she’s bin takin’ her work ’ome, but she won’t never let me carry it, though I’ve walked aside of her an’ talked. It’s always bin about you, too; I s’pose I started it, ’cos I didn’t know what else to talk of. She’s downright sorry for you, old chap; she says she feels as if you was her own brother. “So do I,” says I. An’ that seemed to make us sort o’ related, as it might be, an’ yet I hadn’t got the pluck to say what I wanted to, even then.’ He fell into a gloomier mood and went on, ‘If I was to speak up an’ she says “No,” I reckon it ’ud break my ’art. Sounds silly, don’t it? But if you’d ever bin in love you’d know what I mean. Was you ever in love, Dave?’

Dave hesitated.

‘Once,’ he said abruptly.

‘And how did you tell ’er? If you could give me the tip, like—’

‘I never told ’er,’ Dave cut in, irritably.

‘P’raps you found out she didn’t cotton to you, an’—’

‘Look here!’ growled Dave. ‘Is it likely I was goin’ to be such a tomfool as to go and trouble her after that?’ He pointed impatiently to his maimed limbs. ‘Very well, then!’

Bob Harris was contrite for five minutes.