Herman Cyril McNeile

“ No cocktail, no nice lunch, porterhouse steaks——And Joyce—what the dickens was the matter with her? She seemed so quiet, so different suddenly. Before Bill, too, of all people.
He dug a fork into an oyster with an air of peevishness; no accounting for girls. And then suddenly he happened to glance across that table at Bill, and the suspicion of a frown appeared on his face. He banished it instantly—he was loyal to the core was Tom. ”

“ And if he thinks we are offering him a job out of charity, he'll throw it back in our faces.”
“Merridew asked me to-day whether I had taken any steps to find a successor for him,” interposed her father.
“By Jove, governor, the very thing!” cried Tom. “Don't you think so, Joyce?”
“Well, there's just one point, my dear boy. Does he know anything at all about land agent's work?”
“Does it matter, Dad?” Joyce slipped her hand through her father's arm. “Does anything matter except that the man who saved Tom's life out in France is penniless and starving? We're both rather fond of Tom, you know.” ”

“ In the midst of the hurrying, jostling crowd he was just an inconspicuous unit.
Had any one working in one of the offices high above the street taken the trouble to follow this particular unit's movements he would have come to the conclusion that he was one of the band of leisured idlers who have nothing better to do than to stroll along the streets when the spirit moves them and look at the shops. ”

“ Six hours can sometimes mean as much—aye, more—than six years. In these six hours—nine, to be accurate—since I first met you, I have learned the meaning of the word love. There will never be another woman in my life except you. And that is the real reason why I cannot accept your father's offer, though naturally that is not the reason I shall give him. ”

“ Six hundred a year and a house!
“Would the work be very difficult?” he heard himself saying.
“Nothing that a moderately intelligent man can't pick up in a year,” said his host. “Of course, he must like an outdoor life and be a gentleman.”
“Pity old Bill can't take it on himself,” said Tom, cracking a nut. “He loves an outdoor life. Honestly, old man, with your tastes I don't know how you stick to the city.”
And now temptation was hammering at him. Why not? A job, a country job, a house. And Joyce. To see her sometimes. ”

“ Tom used almost to bore Dad and me with his panegyrics on a man we didn't know.”
“A dreadful exaggerator is Tom,” answered Carruthers.
“When a man saves another man's life a little exaggeration is allowable.” ”

“ I've seen starvation too often in Serbia during the war not to recognize it. But to state that Dad has made you this offer out of charity is belittling you and belittling us. You've been to these other men—strangers, asking for work. Had they offered it, would you have said it was charity? They knew the condition you were in. Men like you don't ask for jobs as night porters for preference. And yet when my father offers you a job you turn it continuously down. ”

“ Like fever dreams—only Carruthers had no fever.
“What number, old man?” Tom's voice roused him, and he sat up with a jerk. Of course: he'd come to King Street in Tom Caldwell's car. Really, this would never do: the luxury of wool-gathering would never do for him. He fumbled in his waistcoat pocket and produced a slip of paper.
“430-D. It's a warehouse of sorts.”
Joyce Caldwell drove slowly along and stopped before the door.
“Hurry up, old man,” said Tom. “And then we'll go off and make an oyster or two wilt.” ”

“ I saw it when Tom spoke to him in Piccadilly; I saw it again when he left the car in King Street. Didn't you see the way he walked, Tom? But I wasn't quite sure how bad he was till you were ordering lunch. He nearly fainted outside in the lounge.” She swung around, facing them. “Starving, Dad, starving! Without a copper in his pockets. Don't ask me how I know: I do. And he saved Tom's life. What are we going to do about it?”
“My dear,” said her father helplessly, “I quite agree. What are we going to do about it?”
“Look here, Joyce,” said her brother, “are you sure about this?” ”

“ They think you a successful man. Would they have offered you this thing if they knew you'd even pawned your underclothes?”
And suddenly he hesitated no longer. He turned to his host, and when he spoke his voice was steady.
“You have made me a very wonderful offer, Mr. Caldwell—how wonderful it is you can have no idea. Unfortunately, your offer has been made without a full knowledge of the facts. When Tom and Miss Caldwell saw me in Piccadilly this morning I was on my way to answer an advertisement for a job as a night porter. ”

“ If he thought I'd guessed the condition he was in, he'd never have come for this run.”
“Then it boils down to this: we've got to find him a job, and a good one,” said Tom decisively. “And until we've done that he's got to stop on in this house. Good heavens!” he went on. “I can't believe it. Bill starving! ”