There was no fashion to interest them,
and the band sounded foolish in the void of the grey London Sunday.
Sarah's chatter was equally irrelevant, and Esther wondered how Sarah
could talk so much about nothing, and regretted her visit to East Dulwich
more and more. Suddenly Bill's name came into the conversation.
"But I thought you didn't see him any more; you promised us you wouldn't."
"I couldn't help it.... It was quite an accident. One day, coming back
from church with Annie--that's the new housemaid--he came up and spoke to
us."
"What did he say?"
"He said, 'How are ye?... Who'd thought of meeting you!'"
"And what did you say?"
"I said I didn't want to have nothing to do with him. Annie walked on, and
then he said he was very sorry, that it was bad luck that drove him to
it."
"And you believed him?"
"I daresay it is very foolish of me. But one can't help oneself. Did you
ever really care for a man?"
And without waiting for an answer, Sarah continued her babbling chatter.
She had asked him not to come after her; she thought he was sorry for what
he had done. She mentioned incidentally that he had been away in the
country and had come back with very particular information regarding a
certain horse for the Cesarewitch. If the horse won he'd be all right.
At last Esther's patience was tired out.
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