Coquette

than usual. How miserable it was that she hadno other girl of her own age to go about with. Boys always went in twos.So did girls. The one gave the other courage. Yet Sally was done withMay. May was soppy. She did not, in thinking this, do anything but envyMay; but all the same she knew that Toby's solitariness matched her own.It was an augury. She lay awake until he came home, listening to hermother breathing; and then, in a few minutes, heard eleven o'clockstrike.

  vi

  The next time this happened, and they met so definitely, Toby lookedsharply at her. Sally did nothing, but paused an instant. He followedher with his eyes. Then, he stepped to her side. It was the moment andSally stopped sharply, shrinking a little from him.

  "Going out alone?" Toby said. "Mind if I come too?" He walked besideher. "I mean ... live in the same house."

  Oh, he had plenty of assurance.

  "All right; you can come," Sally vouchsafed. She was not going to showeagerness; but she was thrilling with excitement. She moistened herlips, her nostrils pinched and her eyes suddenly shrewd. She felt herheart beating terribly in her breast, and was half the calculatingvictor and half a genuinely shrinking young girl engaged in her firstserious exploit.

  For a few moments both Toby and Sally were silent. Everything dependedupon the establishment of some instant connection between them, forotherwise the nerve of both might fail, and a fiasco result. Toby's stephesitated, as though he was beset by an impulse to leave her. Sally shota quick glance. He was wavering, and must be held.

  "Nice night, isn't it?" she remarked, in a ladylike way.

  The inclination to fly was checked. Toby remained by her side. Theywalked together about the streets for an hour, he smoking cigaretteafter cheap cigarette, and every now and then saying something that wasnothing. He was not a good talker. He could not express himself, butsaid "er" between words, and moved his hands. Partly it was nervousness.Sally often grinned at knowledge of this and of his bad way of speaking,which made him sometimes appear almost loutish. But behind everyroughness there lay a hidden strength that she was ready to worship. Shewalked beside him with steps quicker than his own, but a good swing;exulting in their power to walk in unison, a thin little figure besidehis stoutness, her large black straw hat hiding her every expressionexcept when she tilted up her head and in the light of a street lampshowed a tiny white face. Toby slouched along, one hand sometimes in atrouser pocket, but more often with both hands in restless motion. Shecould hear him: "I mean to say ... these yobs go about ... penn'orth ofchocolates and a drink at the fountain. That's all the dinner they get.Wear a tiddy little bowler hat and never brush their boots.... Officeboys, they are; and call 'emselves junior clurks. And what's it come to?I mean to say.... I'd rather work with my hands, like a man.... What'sthe matter with a little dirt? Comes off, doesn't it?"

  "Oo ... yes ..." sighed Sally, admiringly.

  At last, pursuing this theme, Toby told her an anecdote about one of theother fellows at his work. Sally listened with a breathless interestthat was only half-feigned. She wanted him to think she understood. Shewanted him to like her. She even wanted to sympathise. It was such amixture of feelings she had--some good, some mischievous and deliberate.All her vanities were involved. Her nerves were taut with the strain ofsuch a show of absorption, while her mind ran on at top speed. She askedpseudo-timid questions, just to show her interest and her cleverness,and to encourage Toby to keep on telling her things that threw lightupon himself and his likes and dislikes. She walked delicately, stifledyawns, interjected "fancy" and "there" as if she understood all he said.She beguiled him. And all the time, under the design, her heart wassoft towards him, soft and admiring.

  They walked along the darkened streets at a slow pace, and the passerswere few. Once or twice they encountered hushed couples, sometimeslaughing groups. Always Sally glanced stealthily, and summed up thosewhom they saw; and had a tail glance for Toby. He appeared to ignoreeverything, and slouched along at her side, as he must have done whenalone, with his head lowered. She could not make him out. In some wayshe was so self-confident, in others so much as though he had neverlooked at a girl before. Did he know girls? Did he know what they werelike? What a mystery--a delicious mystery! He wasn't soppy, yet hehardly looked at her. Funny ... funny! So she mused; continuing to givehis talk quite half her attention.

  At last ten o'clock struck, and, although both wanted to stay outlonger, Sally was prudent and firm. She said "mother would wonder whathad happened," and laughed a little in her excitement, at the innuendo,and in encouraging flattery. "_Must_ go," she added, lingering. So Tobytook her back to the corner of their road, it being a strict unspokencovenant that they should not enter the house together, in case theyshould be seen. There was no handshake; but Sally had the satisfactionof seeing Toby awkwardly move the peak of his cap in parting. That wasever so good, she thought. Her hard scrutiny of his manner found as yetno cause for suspicion, but only for a renewal of her curiosityconcerning him. Toby showed no sign of any feeling beyond satisfactionwith her, and this was an irresistible flattery. She ran in, full ofexcitement.

  vii

  What was the truth about him? Sally's thoughts bit into her observationwith intense gusto. She turned and twisted all her impressions during acouple of wakeful hours; and she remained full of glee. What a piece ofluck. Toby! Toby, Toby, Toby! How quickly her mind worked! It was likeacid, testing and comparing; and yet its action was soft and caressingwhen she remembered his figure and his voice--some of the littlegestures, some turns of speech, his sturdy contempt for what he called"yobs," which she discovered to be the word "boys" spelt in anunfamiliar way. Those were the things she loved. The rest she hadexploited. The mixture of pleasure and tactics filled her with deliciousdread and hunger.

  When the following evening came, Sally deliberately waited until sheheard Toby go out. Only after a delay of five minutes did she put on herhat and coat in opposition to her mother's command. What was mother?There was a faint flush on Sally's cheeks, and a new sparkle in hereyes. She was engaged upon an adventure. She dallied as she went downthe stairs. At the door she checked herself once more. What if he werenot there? To herself she said that she would not mind; but that was alie which she told to her wits. Her heart gave a different message.

  How dark it was! At first Sally could see nothing. The moon, if therewas one, hid itself behind black clouds. Only specks of light came fromstreet lamps and between the slats of Venetian blinds. A wind hustledabout, blowing up for rain, and uncomfortably draughty. As Sally stoodon the step the door slammed behind her, and she heard a rattling runall through the house, a banging of other doors and trembling ofwindow-panes. And then, as she lowered her head to meet the dustybreeze, she felt Toby beside her, at her elbow, expectant. Sally gave astart and a cry, for he had been so silent in the midst of all thesealarms as to come unexpectedly.

  "How you startled me!" she exclaimed coquettishly. "Thought you'd goneout _long_ ago!"

  Toby gave a sort of half-confused laughing grunt.

  "Hours ago I went out," he said, very close to her, deliciously bold.

  "Didn't think you'd remember.... I didn't _say_ I'd come.... Have youbeen waiting?" Sally sounded very nearly affected in her unplannedspeech. Toby answered with a sort of off-hand nonchalance.

  "Only a minute. That's all right. I was afraid you weren't coming."Afraid! What a lovely word! He continued, with his hand quickly at herelbow: "Shall we go round Fairmead?"

  When he spoke as he was doing now, Toby's rough voice dropped to a lownote that he believed to be gentle. It was in fact still vibrant; butSally liked everything about his tone and his manner. It made her feelthat he was a man; and manliness was everything to her. She longed whileshe was with him to meet May ... to show her.... It would have givenSally fierce joy. For the rest, she was content. He was by her side.Their arms touched from time to time. When the wind blew extra strong,she clutched him, and they stood together to resist the onset. And atevery touch Sally had fresh sense of strength and adventure.
br />   "What you been doing to-day?" she asked, as talk flagged. He told her.He told her a great deal more about himself, and about his aunt. He hadhad the most marvellous adventures. Sally could not believe them all;but she was charmed by the narrative. Toby talked more freely. Hehesitated less, and was more confident. Sally felt sure he must haveknown other girls. You didn't talk like that if you were new to it. Shewas again curious. Once she almost blurted out the question; but shestayed the words in time. It would have been a mistake to ask anythingat this stage. It would have seemed possessive. It might have alarmedhim. Anyway, she thought, if he _has_, what does that matter? To her itwas an added pleasure, that he _might_ be wise and experienced. It was agreater flattery; it