He will not listen to me; he is so greatly
excited and so little like himself. You will help me, sir, will you
not? You will speak to him?"
The Goodwood Plunger knit his eyebrows and closed the lids once or
twice, and forced the mistiness and pain out of his eyes. It was most
annoying. The woman seemed to be talking a great deal and to say very
much, but he could not make sense of it. He moved his shoulders
slightly. "I can't understand," he said wearily, turning away.
"It is my husband," the woman said anxiously: "Louis, he is playing at
the table inside, and he is only an apprentice to old Carbut the
baker, but he owns a third of the store. It was my _dot_ that paid for
it," she added proudly. "Old Carbut says he may have it all for 20,000
francs, and then old Carbut will retire, and we will be proprietors.
We have saved a little, and we had counted to buy the rest in five or
six years if we were very careful."
"I see, I see," said the Plunger, with a little short laugh of relief;
"I understand." He was greatly comforted to think that it was not so
bad as it had threatened. He saw her distinctly now and followed what
she said quite easily, and even such a small matter as talking with
this woman seemed to help him.
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