"Look here," exclaimed the young man, "look here. There's a mistake. I'm not Albert. I'm Jimmy Sykes. Albert don't board here now. He's away up near the station." His face was blank with disappointment. "I guess you didn't mean anything by your whispering, then."
"Lor', what did you think I meant?"
"Well, you said—'Remember, you may'!"
"Oh, listen to the boy! I said—'Remember your May'! What did you think I meant—'Remember, you may'?"
"I thought you meant I might make love to you." He stared into her eyes imploringly. "Just a little. I'd be awfully disappointed if I thought it was all off between us."
"Oh, well," she moved a little closer to him, her head drooping toward her breast. "I'd be pretty lonely here if there was no one to like me or take me out evenings."
He caught her hand and held it in both of his. "Oh, let me take you out, let me keep company with you just a little. Why, look here, if you only knew what I felt like when you asked me this morning if I would have oatmeal porridge or Forces, you'd be surprised, I bet."
Her deep, mirthful eyes met his. "Tell me," she whispered, "what did you feel like?"
"Oh, I can't hardly explain. All tickly up the backbone, and weak, and in a kind of haze, and I wanted to eat whatever you'd bring me if it was poison."
She smiled, showing her small white teeth; her eyelashes seemed to get irrevocably tangled. With a frantic look towards the door Jimmy Sykes caught her in his arms and planted a kiss on her cheek, then fled, late for his work.
Delight tiptoed to the commercial table and took a lump
