I got out my watch and looked at it.—Half-past five.
'Stopped!' I said, '… How long have you been awake?'
'Oh, a long time.'
'… I feel hungry.'
'What time is breakfast going to be?'
'God only knowsor the fat woman! I don't know what even the French for it is. Suppose I get up and see.'
I got up; and, feeling very dried and not a little dirty, pulled off my waistcoat and shirt, and entered upon the best course of ablutions possible with the basin and neither sponge nor soap.
'This is certain,' I said, drying myself on the small towel, 'I never knew what it was to be without a sponge and soap before!'
We talked a little about such things, till I was dressed. Then, on my way to go out, I stopped by the bedside, and stooped down over her.
'May I have a kiss?' I asked.
She put her arms up round my neck, and drew me down to her. Our lips would have met, but that I, avoiding hers, kissed her on the cheek. Then I, supporting myself by my two arms on either side of of her (for she still held me), and, looking at her, said:
'If you think you wouldn't be happy with me, Rosy, it is not too late for you to go back again.'
'Naughty boy!' she said, smiling at me. 'Fancy talking like that!'
'Nay,' I said, 'I was quite serious. You see what a weathercock I am: one moment laughing, the next crying, the next cursing. It is not too late to go back again to your old life. Nay, it will never be too late! Whenever you are tired of me, you must leave me. Half of what was mine is yours. That goes without the saying. You are your own mistress—now, as always, as far as I am concerned.'
'Well,' she said, 'then I'll take you, if you please.'
After a moment:
'That being so,' I said, smiling, ' I am yours—till you are tired of me, that is. Till when, I will do my best—what in me lies, to make you happy. So help
