Contrariwise, Jerry was neat and dressed out as she had never seen him. His puttees were carefully wound, his buttons were polished, his tunic was brushed, his hair was sleek with water. He stood looking at her in his furtive gipsy way, which somehow suggested a cast in his fine eyes which were perfect enough. “Ivy....” She had decided that he should be the first to speak, and had let the silence drag on for two full minutes. “Well?” “I’ve come—I’ve come to ask you to forgive me.” “I’ll forgive you sure enough, Jerry Sumption—but I aun’t going wud you no more, if that’s wot you mean.” “You’ve taken up with another fellow.” “That’s no concern of yourn.” “But tell me if it’s truth or lie?” “It’s truth.” “And you love him?” “Maybe I do.” Jerry’s face went the colour of cheese. “Then you’ll never come with me again, I reckon.” “I justabout woan’t”—Ivy sat up on her heels and looked straight into his dodging eyes—“I’ll forgive you all, but I’ll give you naun—d’you maake that out? I cud never have loved you, and you’ve shown me plain as mud as you aun’t the kind of chap a girl can go with for fun. If you’re wise you’ll kip awaay—we can’t be friends. So you go and find some other girl as ull do better fur you than I shud ever.” “If there hadn’t been this chap——” “It ud have bin the saum. I’m not your sort, my lad, for all you think.” “Will this other chap marry you?” “I’ll tell naun about un. He’s no consarn of yourn, as I’ve said a dunnamany times.” “Ivy, when I was in France, I thought to myself—‘Maybe if I’m sober and keep straight, she’ll have me back.’” “I’m middling glad you thought it, Jerry, fur it wur a good thought. You’ll lose naun by kipping straight and sober, so you go on wud it, my lad.” “I don’t care, if I can’t get you.” “That’s unsensible talk. I’m not the only girl that’s going—thur’s many better.” “Reckon there is—reckon I’ll get one for every day of the week. No need to tell me girls are cheap—I only thought I’d like one that wasn’t, for a change.” “Doan’t you talk so bitter.” “I talk as I feel. You’ve settled with this chap, Ivy?” “I’ve told you a dunnamany times. Wot maakes you so thick?” He did not answer, but turned away, and walked out of the room with a stealthy, humble step, like a beaten dog. Ivy’s heart smote her—she could not let him go without a kind word. “Jerry!” she called after him. But he did not turn back—and then, unaccountably, she felt frightened. 4 It was odd that Jerry’s cowed retreat should have caused her more fear than his swaggering aggression—nevertheless, all that day she could not get rid of her uneasiness, and with the arbitrariness of superstition linked the evening’s catastrophe with the earlier foreboding. She had run down to the Shop, to buy some washing soda, and have a chat with Thyrza, and on her return was met in the passage by Nell, who looked at her hard and said— “There’s someone come to see you—a Mrs. Seagrim.”