QUEEN COPHETU A AND THE BEGGAR -MAN. 
175 
“ I ? Oh, I come now and then when times 
are bad. What’s brought you to this ? ” 
“ Same old story/’ he laughed, shortly. 
“ Drink, I suppose ? ” 
He watched her with an amused smile 
— there was something of a cynic in him — 
and saw a flicker of pity cross her face. 
“ Poor man ! ” she murmured, and then, 
suddenly changing her tone, she too laughed, 
a reckless, artificial laugh. “ Well,” she said, 
“ T suppose we’re all the same. Mine’s 
drink, too.” 
“ Good God ! ” said the man, swiftly. 
“ You — surely not you ? ” 
There was a note of horror in his voice. 
The woman nodded. “ Not now, perhaps, 
but years ago. It’s a long story.” 
“ Tell it to me,” the man said, eagerly. 
“ Tell me your story.” 
“ I’d rather hear yours,” she said. “ When 
did you have any food last ? ” 
“ I got a crust this afternoon. That’s all 
to-day. I got late for the soup tickets.” 
“ Only a crust all day ! That is dreadful. 
Aren’t you hungry ? ” 
“ Not so very. It’s quite easy to make 
one’s stomach independent of the clock. 
Mealtimes never chime for me. Now, when 
did you have food last ? ” 
He smiled at her quizzically. 
“ I had a meal about three hours ago. 
A kind lady gave me a shilling as the theatres 
were emptying, and I spent it.” 
“ What ! the whole shilling ? ” he cried. 
“ A whole shilling on food ? ” 
“ Ye-e-es/’ she faltered. il Why not ? ” 
“ It’s a lot to spend. What did you buy ? ” 
She fumbled with her shawl. 
“ Oh, sausages and things,” she said. 
“ I forget, really — and — and, of course, I had 
some drink.” 
His lower lip jutted out cruelly, as though 
bitter thoughts were in his mind. She saw 
that he really was a good-looking young man, 
and he could only see the thin, haggard face, 
lined and worn, of a broken woman who was 
undoubtedly well bred. 
“ It’s a cruel shame,” he said. u I never 
thought I should meet anyone like you. 
What were you — a typewriter ? ” 
“ No,” she said, u I was just nothing. 
But that doesn’t matter.” 
She was touched by his manner and his 
hungry look. For a time there was silence, 
and then he shivered. 
“ Are you cold ? ” she asked. 
“ Yes,” he said. I never thought it was 
as bad as all this. It’s all so cruel and un- 
reasonable. * War ’ — there it is again.” He 
shook his fist at the emerald lights that 
headed the night. “ War on human beings, 
that’s what it is. Heavens ! the cruelty of 
this London of ours ! Look at them — no 
future — death in life.” 
His voice rose, and the man who was 
asleep woke up complainingly and threatened 
to bash the jaw r of the drunken man who 
lolled at his side. There w T as a hint of foul 
language in the air, and the man, anxious to 
avoid a disturbance, said to the woman, 
“ Come on, let’s stroll dow r n to another 
seat.” 
They walked along the Embankment, 
and a policeman passed them, eyeing them 
casually, as he padded towards Blackfriars in 
his noiseless rubber boots. They passed other 
seats w r here huddled groups sat and slept in 
the rain. 
“ Look at it all ! ” he cried. He pointed 
to the shadows of great hotels that stood 
vaguely against the skyline. “ Look at 
those — every room holding someone snugly 
asleep ! I’d like to drag them out of their 
soft white downy beds and show them our 
benches. Fat, wealthy people they are — and 
you ” — his voice took on another tone — 
“ you walking here alone and friendless.” 
He put his hand under her shawl to touch 
her arm. There was friendliness and a sense 
of protection in his gesture, but she shrank 
back from him in dismay. 
He noticed that. 
“ Oh, you needn’t be afraid,” he said, 
shortly. “ I’m a gentleman, you know.” 
“ I can see that,” she answered, softly. 
“ I’m not quite so bad as I seem, you know. 
I might be able to help you. Look here, 
do you want money ? I haven’t got much on 
me. I only came out with a shilling or so, 
but it’s yours.” 
He held out two shillings to her. She was 
perplexed. 
“ But — but then, why didn’t you buy 
yourself food ? ” 
He frowned. 
“ What’s that to do with you ? ” he 
asked. “ I suppose I can do as I like ? Take 
the money, and good-bye.” 
He thrust the two shillings into her hand, 
and started walking in the direction of North- 
umberland Avenue. 
He had not gone far before he felt a timid 
touch on his shoulder. He turned and saw 
the woman again . Her face was strained with 
sorrow and pity. 
“ Look here,” she said, changing her voice. 
“ I’m sorry. When you gave me your money, 
you know, I didn’t realize. I’m not what you 
