i 51ddca29df3edad1 by Unknown

down."
    He sat down; then looking up at the young man he stared at him for a moment in silence before saying, "I'm so sorry, Robbie."
    "What's to be sorry for? You've been sick, and no wonder, the way you came in. I'll tell you something." He put his head down to Harry and whispered.
    "Gin does the same for me. Two glasses and I'm flat. She doesn't know." He nodded towards the kitchen.
    "She always thinks it's something she's cooked' He was grinning now, but Harry couldn't grin back. Getting to his feet, he said, " If you don't mind, Robbie, I'll make my way home. "
    "Yes, yes, of course. And I'll come along of you."
    1NU, IWy yULi WU11 L. "Well, you might as well stop talking because I'm comin'. I won't go in, don't worry, but I'm going to see you there. I don't want them to find you lying in the gutter stiff the morrow mornin'."
    At this moment Harry thought he wouldn't mind being found in the gutter stiff tomorrow morning.
    Janet helped him into his coat, and she pushed his fumbling fingers aside and tucked his scarf over his chest, then buttoned the coat. He said to her too, "I'm sorry, Janet." And her voice brusque now, she replied sharply, "Don't be silly Harry. What have you got to apologise to me for? I'll remind you that I've had to hold your head before the day when you were sick. Do you remember the night we went to the fair and you went on the shoggies."
    He had a faint recollection of the event and he smiled at her weakly.
    And she went on, "And that wasn't the only time. There were school treats when you stuffed yourself and got it up in the bus coming back."
    He could remember one such occasion.
    "I must have a weak stomach," he said.
    "There." She handed him his hat.
    "Now when you get in go straight to bed and have a rest over the holidays. It isn't only today that has caused this stomach upset, it's doing that Father Christmas stunt.
    That Market Place is a death trap any day in the winter, even without snow. I don't know how Robbie escaped. "
    As he looked down at her part of his mind registered the fact that Janet Dunn in twenty-three Baker Street was a different creature from Janet Dunn when she came to help out in Holly- tree House, Holt Avenue.
    This was the Janet he remembered from years back, and he had never seen her for a long time because their meetings were always in his own home, with Esther in either the foreground or the background.
    He said, "Perhaps you'll invite me to dinner some other time, Janet?"
    and she answered, "Any time. You know you're welcome in this house any time, Harry. And you don't need an invitation. Dear, dear I you should know that."
    He looked at her face. It was plain, homely and good. Her 0 .
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    her skin had an olive tint; her nose was not large but it was the nose of a Jewess. Yet somehow he had the impression she had just missed being a beautiful woman. She had a good figure, and as his grannie had said, she had a presence, a sort of dignity. She was a good woman altogether was Janet. He took her hand and nodded at her but said nothing, then they went into the passage where Robbie was waiting. She opened the door and let them out, saying, "Go careful, the both of you mind. Go careful." She spoke as if they were of one family.
    As he went down the street with Robbie supporting him by the arm he thought, It's been the strangest day of my life.
    Robbie left him at the bottom of the steps, saying, "Now you do what Mam said and go straight to bed. And if I were you I'd stay there over the holidays; you're right down low if I'm any judge."
    "I'll see to it, Robbie." He tried to smile.
    "And thanks for your help, for everything."
    "You're welcome. There's nobody I'd rather give me shoes to, you know that."
    They peered at each other through the snow, then Robbie turned away and he went into the house.
    When he reached the hall they all gathered round him, all talking at once, until Esther, her voice raised unusually high cried, "Stop it!
    Be quiet, I can't hear myself