Part 38 (1/2)

She hesitated. ”Funny, wasn't it?” she said, and then, ”you got yours, Artie?”

”Rather,” said Kipps. ”What do you think?” and wondered in his heart of hearts why he had never looked at that sixpence for so long.

Ann smiled at him frankly.

”I didn't expect you'd keep it,” she said. ”I thought often--it was silly to keep mine. Besides,” she reflected, ”it didn't mean anything really.”

She glanced at him as she spoke and met his eye.

”Oh, didn't it!” said Kipps, a little late with his response, and realising his infidelity to Helen even as he spoke.

”It didn't mean much anyhow,” said Ann. ”You still in the drapery?”

”I'm living at Folkestone,” began Kipps and decided that that sufficed.

”Didn't Sid tell you he met me?”

”No! Here?”

”Yes. The other day. 'Bout a week or more ago.”

”That was before I came.”

”Ah! that was it,” said Kipps.

”'E's got on,” said Ann. ”Got 'is own shop now, Artie.”

”'E tole me.”

They found themselves outside Muggett's cottages. ”You going in?” said Kipps.

”I s'pose so,” said Ann.

They both hung upon the pause. Ann took a plunge.

”D'you often come to New Romney?” she said.

”I ride over a bit at times,” said Kipps.

Another pause. Ann held out her hand.

”I'm glad I seen you,” she said.

Extraordinary impulses arose in neglected parts of Kipps' being. ”Ann,”

he said and stopped.

”Yes,” said she, and was bright to him.

They looked at one another.

All and more than all of those first emotions of his adolescence had come back to him. Her presence banished a mult.i.tude of countervaling considerations. It was Ann more than ever. She stood breathing close to him, with her soft-looking lips a little apart and gladness in her eyes.