Boardinghouses -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction; Love stories; Single women -- Fiction
For two hours Patricia and Mr. Triggs wandered about the Zoo, roving
from one group of animals to another, behaving rather like two children
who had at last escaped from the bondage of the school-room.
After tea they strolled through Regent's Park, watching the squirrels
and talking about the thousand and one things that good comrades have
to talk about. Mr. Triggs told something of his early struggles, how
his wife had always believed in him and been his helpmate and loyal
comrade, how he missed her, and how, when she had died, she had urged
him to marry again.
"Sam," she had said, "you want a woman to look after you; you're
nothing but a great, big baby."
"And she was right, me dear," said Mr. Triggs huskily, "she was right
as she always was, only she didn't know that there couldn't ever be
anyone after 'er."
Slowly and tactfully Patricia guided the old man's thoughts away from
the sad subject of his wife's death, and soon had him laughing gaily at
some stories she had heard the night previously from the Bowens. Mr.
Triggs was as easily diverted from sadness to laughter as a child.
It was half-past seven when they left the Park gates, and Patricia,
looking suddenly at her wristlet watch, cried out, "Oh! I shall be
late for dinner, I must fly!"
"You're going to dine with me, me dear," announced Mr. Triggs.
"Oh, but I can't," said Patricia; "I--I----"
"Why can't you?"
"Well, I haven't told Mrs. Craske-Morton."
"Who's she?" enquired Mr. Triggs.
"Of course it doesn't matter, how stupid of me," said Patricia; "I
should love to dine with you, Mr. Triggs, if you will let me."
"That's all right," said Mr. Triggs, heaving a sigh of relief.
They walked down Portland Place and Regent Street until they reached
the Quadrant.
"We'll 'ave dinner in the Grill-room at the Quadrant," announced Mr.
Triggs, with the air of a man who knows his way about town.
"Oh, no, not there, please!" cried Patricia, in a panic.
"Not there!" Mr. Triggs looked at her, surprise and disappointment in
his voice. "Why not?"
"Oh! I'd sooner not go there if you don't mind. Couldn't we go
somewhere else?"
For a moment Mr. Triggs did not reply.
"There's someone there I don't want to meet," said Patricia, then a
moment afterwards she realised her mistake. Mr. Triggs looked down at
his clothes.
"I suppose they are a bit out of it for the evening," he remarked in a
hurt voice.
"Oh, Mr. Triggs, how could you?" said Patricia. "Now I shall insist on
dining in the Quadrant Grill-room. If you won't come with me I'll go
alone."
"Not if you don't want to go, me dear, it doesn't matter. Though I do
like to 'ear the band. We can go anywhere."
"No, Quadrant or nothing," said Patricia, hoping that Bowen would be
dining out.
"Are you sure, me dear?" said Mr. Triggs, hesitating on the threshold.
"Nothing will change me," announced Patricia, with decision. "Now you
can see about getting a table while I go and powder my nose."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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