The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists
'Oh, nothing much,' returned the other; 'some young woman; she's either ill, come over faint, or something—or else she's had a drop too much.'
'Quite a respectable looking young party, too,' said another man.
Several young fellows in the crowd were amusing themselves by making suggestive jokes, and causing some laughter by their expressions of mock sympathy.
'Doesn't anyone know who she is?' said the second man who had spoken in reply to Slyme's enquiry.
'No,' said a woman who was standing a little nearer the middle of the crowd, 'and she won't say where she lives.'
'She'll be all right now she's had that glass of soda,' said another man, elbowing his way out of the crowd. As this individual came out, Slyme managed to work himself a little further into the group of people and he uttered an involuntary cry of astonishment as he caught sight of Ruth, very pale, and looking very ill, as she stood clasping one of the railings with her left hand, and holding the packages of groceries in the other. She had by this time recovered sufficiently to feel overwhelmed with shame and confusion before the crowd of strangers who hemmed her in on every side and some of whom she could hear laughing and joking about her. It was therefore with a sensation of intense relief and gratitude that she saw Slyme's familiar face and heard his friendly voice as he forced his way through to her side.
'I can walk home all right now,' she stammered in reply to his anxious questioning, 'if you wouldn't mind carrying some of these things for me.'
He insisted on taking the bag and all the parcels, and the crowd, having jumped to the conclusion that he was the young woman's husband, began to dwindle away, one of the jokers remarking 'It's all over!' in a loud voice, as he took himself off.
It was only about seven minutes' walk home from there, and as the streets along which they had to pass were not very brilliantly lighted, Ruth was able to lean on Slyme's arm most of the way. When they arrived home, after she had removed her hat, he made her sit down in the arm chair. The fire was burning brightly, and the kettle was singing on the hob, for she had banked up the fire with cinders and small coal before she went out.
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