not help thinking it--between the
vulnerable hairy, and somehow childish leg of the real man, and the
shapeless form of these workmen's trousers. The kernel, the man
himself--seemed so tender--the covering so stiff and insentient.

And was he not going to speak to her--not one human word of
recognition? Men are the most curious and unreal creatures. After
all he had made use of her. Think how he had pressed her hand gently
but firmly down, down over his bruise, how he had taken the virtue
out of her, till she felt all weak and dim. And after that was he
going to relapse into his tough and ugly workman's hide, and treat
her as if _she_ were a pair of steps, which might let him down or
hold him up, as might be.

As she stood clinging to the steps she felt weak and a little
hysterical. She wanted to summon her strength, to have her own back
from him. After all he had taken the virtue from her, he might have
the grace to say thank you, and treat her as if she were a human
being.

At last he left off tinkering, and looked round.

"Have you finished?" she said.

"Yes," he answered crossly.

And taking the candle he began to clamber down. When he got to the
bottom he crouched over his leg and felt the bandage.

"That gives you what for," he said, as if it were her fault.

"Is the bandage holding?" she said.

"I think so," he answered churlishly.

"Aren't you going to make sure?" she said.

"Oh, it's all right," he said, turning aside and taking up his
tools. "I'll make my way home."

"So will I," she answered.

She took the candle and went a little in front. He hurried into his
coat and gathered his tools, anxious to get away. She faced him,
holding the candle.

"Look at my hand," she said, holding it out. It was smeared with
blood, as was the cuff of her dress--a black-and-white striped
cotton dress.

"Is it hurt?" he said.

"No, but look at it. Look here!" She showed the bloodstains on her
dress.

"It'll wash out," he said, frightened of her.

"Yes, so it will. But for the present it's there. Don't you think
you ought to thank me?"

He recoiled a little.

"Yes," he said. "I'm very much obliged."

"You ought to be more than that," she said.

He did not answer, but looked her up and down.

"We'll be going down," he said. "We s'll have folks talking."

Suddenly she began to laugh. It seemed so comical. What a position!
The candle shook as she laughed. What a man, answering her like a
little au