"It's a good thing there was a lot of straw and
sacks here."
Then, after much groping, his hand touched her wet dress.
"You know you're a very naughty girl," he said.
He heard a sob, a wild sob. The proud, independent creature had broken
down under the stress of events. He climbed out of the water on to the
part of the table which she was not occupying. And the van was as black
as Erebus.
Gradually, out of the welter of sobs, came faint articulations, and
little by little he learnt the entire story of her difficulties, her
misfortunes, her struggles, and her defeats. He listened to a frank
confession of guilt. But what could she do? She had meant well. But what
could she do? She had been driven into a corner. And she had her father
to think of! Honestly, on the previous day, she had intended to pay the
rent, or part of it. But there had been a disappointment! And she had
been so unwell. In short...
The van gave a lurch. She clutched at him and he at her. The van was
settling down for a comfortable night in the mud.
(Queer that it had not occurred to him before, but at the first visit
she had postponed paying him on the plea that the bank was closed, while
at the second visit she had stated that the actual cash had been slowly
accumulating in her desk! And the discrepancy had not struck him.
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