And as he knelt before her on one knee,the young woman studied,with a slight repugnance,the large head,wedged beneath the shoulders as if a giant's hand had pressed it down,and the hump projecting behind,monstrous and inhuman.Suddenly Jonah looked up and met her eyes.
She coloured faintly.
"Wot sort of fit do yer like?"he asked.His voice,usually sharp and nasal,was rather hoarse.
All her life she remembered that moment.The huge shop,glittering with varnish,mirrors,and brass rods,the penetrating odour of leather,the saleswoman silently copying the figures into the book,and the misshapen hunchback kneeling before her and looking up into her face with his restless grey eyes,grown suddenly steady,that asked one question and sought another.She frowned slightly,conscious of some strange and disagreeable sensation.
"I prefer them as tight as possible without hurting me,"she replied nervously;"but I'm afraid I'm giving you too much trouble.""Not a bit,"replied Jonah,clearing his throat.
As he finished measuring,a small boy,dressed in a Fauntleroy velvet suit,with an enormous collar and a flap cap,ran noisily into the shop,dragging a toy train at his heels.
"Get upstairs at once,Ray,"said Jonah,without looking round.
The child,puffing and snorting like an engine,took no notice of the command.
"Did yez 'ear me speak?"cried Jonah,angrily.
The child laughed,and stopped with his train in front of the customer,staring at her with unabashed eyes.
"What a pretty boy!"said the young woman."Won't you tell me your name?""My name's Ray Jones,and I'll make old bones,"he cried,with the glibness of a parrot.
The young woman laughed,and Jonah's face changed instantly.It wore the adoring gaze of the fond parent,who thinks his child is a marvel and a prodigy.
"Tell the lady 'ow old yer are,"he said.
"I'm seven and a bit old-fashioned,"cried the child,looking into the customer's face for the amused look that always followed the words.
The young woman smiled pleasantly as she laced her shoe.
"'E's as sharp as a needle,"said Jonah,with a proud look,"but I 'aven't put 'im to school yet,'cause 'e'll get enough schooling later on.But I'll 'ave ter do somethin'with 'im soon;'e's up ter 'is neck in mischief.I wish 'e was old enough ter learn the piano.'E's got a wonderful ear fer music.""But he is old enough,"said the young woman with a sudden interest.
"I have two pupils the same age as he."
"Ah?"said Jonah,inquiringly.
"I am a teacher of music,"continued the young woman,"and in my opinion,they can't start too early,if they have any gift.""An''ow would yer judge that?"said Jonah,delighted at the turn of the conversation.
"I generally go by the width of the forehead at the temples.
Phrenologists always look for that,and I have never found it fail.Come here,"she said to the child,in a sharp,businesslike tone.She passed her hand over his forehead,and pointed out to Jonah a fullness over the corner of the eye."That is the bump of music.You have it yourself,"she said,suddenly looking at Jonah's face."I'm sure you're fond of music.Do you sing or play?""I can do a bit with the mouth-organ,"said Jonah,off his guard.He turned red with shame at this vulgar admission but the young woman only smiled.
"Well,about the boy,"said Jonah,anxious to change the subject,"I'd like yer to take 'im in 'and,if yer could make anythin'of 'im.""I should be very pleased,"said the young woman.
"Very well,we'll talk it over on Thursday,when yer come fer yer shoes,"said Jonah,feeling that he was making an appointment with this fascinating stranger.
As she left the shop she handed Jonah a card,on which was printed:
MISS CLARA GRIMES,TEACHER OF MUSIC.
Terms:1pound 1shilling per quarter.
"Well,I'm damned!"said Jonah."Old Grimes's daughter,of course."And as he watched her crossing the street with a quick,alert step,an intense yearning and loneliness came over him.Something within him contracted till it hurt.And suddenly there flashed across his mind some half-forgotten words of Mrs Yabsley's:
"Don't think of marryin'till yer feel there's somethin'wrong wi'yer inside,for that's w'ere it ketches yer."He sighed heavily,and went into the shop,preoccupied and silent for that day.
A FAMILY IN EXILE
Dad Grimes had just finished the story of his nose and the cabman,and the group in the bar of the Angel exploded like a shell.Dicky Freeman's mouth seemed to slip both ways at once till it reached his ears.The barman put down the glass he was wiping and twisted the cloth in his fingers till the tears stood in his eyes.The noise was deafening.
"An''e sez,'Cum on,you an'yer nose,an'I'll fight the pair o'yez,'"spluttered Dicky,with hysterical gasps,and went off again.His chuckles ended in a dead silence.There was no sound but the rapid breathing of the men.The barman flattened a mosquito on his cheek,the smack sounded like a kiss.Dicky Freeman emptied his glass,and then stared through the bottom as if he wondered where the liquor had gone.
