Warburton, for telling me that story."
"How exquisite London is at this time of the year!" Rosamund
murmured, as having declared it was time to be walking homewards,
they walked slowly towards the bridge. "I'm glad not to be going
away. Look at that lovely sky! Look at the tones of those houses.--
Oh, I _must_ make use of it all! Real use, I mean, as splendid
material for art, not only for money-making. Do advise me, Mr.
Warburton. Where shall I go to look for bits?"
Walking with bent head, Will reflected.
"Do you know Camberwell?" he asked. "There are good little
corners--"
"I don't know it at all. Could you--I'm afraid to ask. You
couldn't spare time--?"
"Oh yes, easily. That's to say, during certain hours."
"On Monday say? In the afternoon?"
"Yes."
"How kind of you!" murmured Rosamund. "If I were only an amateur,
amusing myself, I couldn't give you the trouble; but it's serious I
_must_ earn money before long. You see, there's nothing else I can
do. My sister--you know I have a sister?--she has taken to
teaching; she's at St. Jean de Luz. But I'm no use for anything of
that kind. I must be independent. Why do you smile?"
"Not at you, but at myself. I used to say the same thing. But I had
no talent of any kind, and when the smash came--"
They were crossing the bridge. Will looked westward, in the
direction of his shop, and it struck him how amusing it would be to
startle Rosamund by a disclosure of his social status.
Pages:
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222