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Almost immediately after that Wilson went away, but it was three hours later before Caroline and Wilf, having danced their fill, emerged into the coolness of the midnight air. As they walked down the dim promenade together, Wilf was still talking about Wilson. "Some chaps say he is so stand-offish, but I always hold that people treat you as you treat them.
Not that Caroline thought of this, being a normal, healthy girl, but a shadow of the thought fell across her bright path and she shivered slightly, drawing her coat closer round her throat. "Come on," she said, turning to Wilf, who stood near waiting for her. "That band gives me the pip, hearing it from the outside. You want something louder than that near the sea."
If Wilf hasn't caught this, he will get the next. He isn't dead." "What do you mean?" said Carrie, but her voice sounded muffled and vague, even to herself. "Why, you came to meet your boy, didn't you? And he hasn't turned up. That's what you looked like, anyway," said the girl, laughing.
"You surely don't imagine Miss Ethel sort of felt I was going to give notice, and so fell down and hurt herself on purpose?" said Caroline, laughing. But Wilf, pallid and exhausted with a burning day in a Flodmouth office his nerves slightly upset by too many cigarettes was in no mood to be chaffed. "I never gave a hint at anything so ridiculous," he answered fretfully.
Caroline's lip began to tremble "Wilf, if I'd known about you giving up the motor-bike I wouldn't never have spoken as I did. I do feel a beast. But you have to think about yourself in this world or nobody'll think for you. I can't see any reason in going on as we are doing for years and then getting married when we're both dead sick of it all and of each other. We only keep each other back.
Creddle, and I'm wearing it because Aunt burnt a frock of mine." "Lucky thing she did," said Wilson easily. "I can't quite see Mrs. Creddle in this gown at least, if she is the lady I have encountered at Miss Wilson's." "Ha! ha!" laughed Wilf, feeling he owed it to his own dignity to assert himself and join in somehow, but finding a difficulty in beginning. "Miss Temple didn't mean it to be worn.
And it was all for you. And now this is how I'm treated." "Oh, Wilf! You never told me. I never knew about the motor-bike," said Caroline, taken aback. "There's lots of things you don't know about," said Wilf. "However, if you're bent on ending it all, I shan't try to stop you. I aren't one to force myself upon a girl that doesn't want me."
Man, ye're a dour birkie!" said he; "but a wilf u' man maun hae his way, and, if naething less'll dae ye, jist gang up to yer ain chaumer, and ye'll find her giein' the Macfarlanes het punch wi' nae sugar till't." The statement was largely an enigma to Count Victor, but he understood enough to send him up the stairs with an alacrity that drove Mungo, in his rear, into silent laughter.
Suddenly, the thought swept over her of how she had gloried in the idea of travelling with the other girls who were off to places of business in Flodmouth all so neat, and nicely dressed, and so independent. Now that was spoilt, like everything else. Then the sudden hooting of a motor-bicycle caused her to start aside, and Wilf careered past cap correctly poised, slim young body bent forward.
It was to make best frocks for the little ones or something like that," said Caroline. "But I shan't wear it again, so they'll have the benefit of it all the same." "Well, I'm sure the original wearer would be delighted if she could see you in it," said Wilson. "Just what I say," put in Wilf, seizing his chance. "Never saw Carrie look better.
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