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"
I can't trouble you much more. You have come--you have risked things--"
That don't count," said Mr. Hoopdriver. "It's double pay to let me do
"
it, so to speak."
"
It is good of you to say that. Surbiton is so Conventional. I am
resolved to be Unconventional--at any cost. But we are so hampered. If
I could only burgeon out of all that hinders me! I want to struggle, to
take my place in the world. I want to be my own mistress, to shape my
own career. But my stepmother objects so. She does as she likes herself,
and is strict with me to ease her conscience. And if I go back now, go
back owning myself beaten--" She left the rest to his imagination.
"I see that," agreed Mr. Hoopdriver. He MUST help her. Within his
skull he was doing some intricate arithmetic with five pounds six and
twopence. In some vague way he inferred from all this that Jessie was
trying to escape from an undesirable marriage, but was saying these
things out of modesty. His circle of ideas was so limited.
"You know, Mr.--I've forgotten your name again."
Mr. Hoopdriver seemed lost in abstraction. "You can't go back of course,
quite like that," he said thoughtfully. His ears waxed suddenly red and
his cheeks flushed.
"But what IS your name?"
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