Love and Mr. Lewisham
and Grummett the perennial Official of the Books was busy among them.     

       “Der Zozalist!” said a wit.     

       Lewisham pretended not to hear and blushed vividly. He often wished he did not blush quite so much, seeing he was a man of one-and-twenty. He looked studiously away from the Debating Society notice-board, whereon “G.E. Lewisham on Socialism” was announced for the next Friday, and struggled through the hall to where the Book awaited his signature. Presently he was hailed by name, and then again. He could not get to the Book for a minute or so, because of the hand-shaking and clumsy friendly jests of his fellow-“men.”     

       He was pointed out to a raw hand, by the raw hand’s experienced fellow-townsman, as “that beast Lewisham—awful swat. He was second last year on the year’s work. Frightful mugger. But all these swats have a touch of the beastly prig. Exams—Debating Society—more Exams. Don’t seem to have ever heard of being alive. Never goes near a Music Hall from one year’s end to the other.”     

       Lewisham heard a shrill whistle, made a run for the lift and caught it just on the point of departure. The lift was unlit and full of black shadows; only the sapper who conducted it was distinct. As Lewisham peered doubtfully at the dim faces near him, a girl’s voice addressed him by name.     

       “Is that you, Miss Heydinger?” he answered. “I didn’t see, I hope you have had a pleasant vacation.”     

  

  

       CHAPTER IX. — ALICE HEYDINGER.     

       When he arrived at the top of the building he stood aside for the only remaining passenger to step out before him. It was the Miss Heydinger who had addressed him, the owner of that gilt-edged book in the cover of brown paper. No one else had come all the way up from the ground floor. The rest of the load in the lift had emerged at the “astronomical” and       “chemical” floors, but these two had both chosen “zoology”       for their third year of study, and zoology lived in the attics. She stepped into the light, with a rare touch of colour springing to her cheeks in spite of herself. Lewisham perceived an alteration in her dress. Perhaps she 
 Prev. P 46/187 next 
Back Top
Privacy Statement Terms of Service Contact