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Young, E. H. (Emily Hilda), 1880-1949

"The Bridge Dividing"

You can't listen to music if you're hungry.
Let's have dinner first.'
The square was deserted, the lights in the little shops, where old
furniture and lace and jewels were sold, were all put out and the
large policeman who had been standing at the corner had moved away.
'I don't want anything to eat,' she said. She dropped the bag and
covered her face with both her hands. She was going to cry, but he was
not afraid; he was rather glad and, not without pleasure at his own
daring, he removed a hand, tucked it under his arm, and said, 'Come
along.'
She struggled. 'I can't. I must go to London. If you want to help me
you'll find out about the trains. I can go to Mrs. Banks. I can't go
back to Radstowe.'
'Henrietta,' he said firmly, 'come and have dinner and we'll talk
about it.'
'If you'll promise to help me.'
'There's nothing I want to do so much,' he said. 'We mustn't forget
the bag.'
'Somewhere quiet, Charles,' she murmured.
'Somewhere good,' he emended.
She looked down, 'Such old clothes.'
'It doesn't matter what you wear,' he told her. 'You always look
different from anybody else.'
'Do I? And I am! I am! I'm much worse, and nobody,' she almost
sobbed, 'is so unhappy! Charles, will you wait here for a minute? I
must just--just walk round the square.'
'You'll come back?'
She nodded, and he kept the bag as hostage.
The large policeman had strolled back. He saw the tall young man
standing over the bag and thought it would be well to keep an eye on
him, but Charles did not notice the policeman.


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