Hugh Walpole

“ HE DID not ask her what she had been doing all these years, why she was in Venice; did not pretend to any stiffness or formality because of the way that they had parted; was engaged (she might have known it) simply in the practical business of getting her money back. Although she was fully aware now of the amazing impudence of her own attack, she rose to the immediate occasion in a clear, hard, defiant bravado.
“It was stolen in St. Mark's,” she said, “just now; it was all in the bag in my hand. A man snatched it and vanished before I could turn round; it had in it every penny I possess.” ”

“ She was afraid, perhaps, that she was all these things, but she did not care; she threw her cap over every mill. Her holiday was in September, and she understood that that was the best time in all the year to go to Venice. She passed almost furtively between Cook's doors and held mysterious and enthralling conversations with the young man over the counter inside. She was surprised at the small amount the journey would cost her, traveling second class and first class on the boat and staying one night in Paris at a modest little hotel that the Cook young man recommended to her. ”

“ Their eyes met, and it seemed as though seven years were as nothing and all the refusals in the world as though they had never been. Then she hurried away, almost running in her haste.
She went to the landing stage, and by good fortune her boat was there waiting. She got on to it, got off at the Accademia, hastened off down the little street to the left where the glorious flower-stand was, up the canal, out on to the Zattere, and so into her little dark hotel. She met the dark-haired woman in the hall. ”

“ Or she could purchase one picture, one beautiful picture, a water-color by Clausen or Bone or D. Y. Cameron, or a John drawing, or a beautiful vase or a lovely rug. Or she might spend it on horrid necessities or on beautiful clothes, or she might, of course, give it to a needy charity. She did none of these things; she decided in a flash of eternal wisdom that she would spend it all in one great splendor and go to Venice.
She had always wanted to go to Venice more than anywhere in the world. ”

“ In Cook's office they were severely practical. There were but few people there, and the stout man with the strawberry face and the sky-blue suit listened with the most respectful attention. Tom Rochester had always that effect on people; he made them always believe that he was speaking exactly the truth and that it was an honor for them to do anything for him. He turned round toward her with courteous but quite impersonal attention.
“You say you were standing in St. Mark's and this man snatched your bag?” ”

“ She was now twenty-seven years of age and had not a penny in the world. She was, however, capable, resolute, and brave. She came up to London and, by good luck and some charm that she had that made it very difficult for certain people to resist her, she obtained a post as secretary to a large girls' club, and so managed to keep alive. ”

“ An interval followed during which every detail was given of the appearance of the bag, the amount of the money, and the rest. Cook's man was very polite indeed, but held out little hope of the money being recovered.
They went out into the sunlight again.
“Thank you,” she began hurriedly. “I oughtn't to have spoken to you; it seemed so natural seeing you there, I really didn't know what to do. Please forgive me. I am terribly grateful to you.” She was turning away.
“Stop,” he said, “you can't go like that. You can't be in Venice without a penny. Will you let me lend you something?” ”

“ Her bag was gone! Well, what if it were? At the first moment she realized nothing very terrible in that, but only as her personality, summoned at some mysterious call, came flooding back to her, she thought to herself, “It was a very nice bag; the only really decent one I had,” then with a shock that almost rocked her off her feet, “My money!” Yes, her money. She stood there without a penny in the world save a few lire lying on her dressing-table in the hotel. No, that was not true, of course; she could get money from her girls' club ”

“ She found, as many others had found before her, that the difficulties of foreign travel are mainly in the imagination—at any rate, today, because there are so many persons who are anxious to be of service to you if you will pay them for their anxiety. ”

“ He brought out his pocket-book. “Here,” he said, “is about—let me see—twenty pounds—most of it Italian money; five pounds English; you should be all right with that until your money comes from England.” ”

“ Then it was that, standing in that crowd in the brilliant sunlight, her knees began to tremble, and she was afraid lest she should do what she had never done in her life before, namely, faint. Any one who has been in such a position as hers knows the strange way in which a dreadful helplessness gradually approaches, as though some one were whispering, “You know it's no good ”