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Updated: September 3, 2025
"Poor child!" said Waymark, looking into her face, which had become very animated as the details of the story succeeded each other in her mind. "I must have looked a terrible little savage on that next morning," Ida went on, smiling sadly. "Oh, how hungry I was! I was awoke by a woman who came out of one of the rooms, and I asked her if she'd give me something to eat.
"Yes, yes; I will do so. But you look downright ill. Do you feel able to get home? If I'd thought it would upset you like this " Mr. Woodstock was puzzled, and kept scrutinising the other's face. "I shall go home and have a little rest," Julian said. "I didn't get much sleep last night, that's all. But I must hear about Waymark." "You shall. I'll warrant he turns up in the course of the day.
Perhaps now you will believe what I insisted upon before the trial, that there had been nothing whatever " He spoke irritably, and was interrupted by the other with yet more irritation. "Never mention that again to me as long as you live, Waymark If you do, we shall quarrel, understand!"
"You are to go straight in," she said, with a smile, to Waymark, "and are to tell the first person you meet that three people want dinner. There's no choice roast beef and vegetables, and some pudding or other afterwards. Then you are to walk straight upstairs, as if you knew your way, and we will follow."
Then, turning back for a moment, "You mustn't give way like this, old fellow; this is horrible weakness. Dare I leave you alone?" Julian stretched out his hand, and Waymark pressed it. Waymark received from the police a confirmation of all that Julian had said, and returned home. Julian still lay on the couch, calmer, but like one in despair.
Its title, The Unclassed, excited a little curiosity, but the author was careful to explain that he had not in view the déclassés but rather those persons who live in a limbo external to society, and refuse the statistic badge. The central figure Osmond Waymark is of course Gissing himself.
"I don't know, I'm sure," she said, with a pretence of indifference. "I don't see what he can have to say against it. Bring her as soon as you like." "She is not free till seven at night. Perhaps we had better leave it till next Sunday?" "Why? Why couldn't she come to-morrow night?" "It is very good of you. I have no doubt she would be glad." With this understanding Waymark took his departure.
He neither swore nor looked black; his was the anxiety of a man who has some grave interest at stake wherein the better part of his nature is concerned. At five o'clock he took a cab, and went off to Waymark's lodgings in Chelsea. Here he learned that Waymark had left home at the usual time, and had not yet returned.
So Waymark fought it out, to the result of weariness; then plunged into his work again, and had regained very much his ordinary state of mind when Maud Enderby unexpectedly came before him. He called upon the Enderbys, and was soon invited to dine, which necessitated the purchase of a dress suit.
Would she have done all this without something of a hope that she might regain her place in the every-day world, and be held by Waymark worthy to become his wife? He could not certainly know, but there was little doubt that this hope had led her on.
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