Page:The Yellow Book - 08.djvu/220

"Unwin," he added, hastily. "Now yours, please."

But the only answer he got was a mocking smile; and he was again left at the corner of Berners Street with a lady's umbrella in his hand.

The next morning there was a dull yellow fog, and Jean was in a perverse mood.

"I think you are very mistaken to walk to business on a day like this, when you might go by train," she said, as she reluctantly gave up her books to be carried by him. The fog was making her eyes smart, and she felt cross.

"But I shall get my reward," he said, with elaborate courtesy.

"Oh, please don't. The fog is bad enough without allusions to the hymn-book. Besides, I can't stand being used as a means for somebody else to get into heaven. It is very selfish of me, I suppose, but I don't like it."

"I am afraid you mistake me. I never for a moment associated you with my chances of salvation."

"Then why didn't you?" she cried indignantly. "I should like to know why you come and bother me every morning like this if you think I am as hopelessly bad as all that! I didn't ask you to come, did I? Please give me my books and let me go."

"I think you hopelessly bad? Why, I assure you———"

"Give me my books. Can't you see how late I am?" she said, stamping her foot impetuously. And she seized Bright's English History and Cornwall's Geography out of his hand, and left him precipitately, without another word.

"You are a most unreasonable little girl," he exclaimed hotly; and the policeman to whom he said it smiled patiently.

He started with the intention of going by train on the following morning; then he changed his mind, and ran back to take anomnibus