TURCI6 SEES HER 189

instinctive or intuitive knowledge.

"How did you like the picture then?" he asked,
casually.

"I didn't think it was so very good/' she replied, just
as casually. "I don't like that Lulu Castellar. Pulls
herself about a bit too much, she does, if you ask me.
Might as well have Saint Vitus dance and have done
with it. Do you like her?"

"Oh—I dunno—she's all right," he muttered. He
was recovering from a horrible shock. This girl was
not pretty at all, not even reasonably good-looking. She
was years older than he was, and she was hideous. He
had just caught sight of her face properly for the first
time. Her nose was all twisted and she had a bit of a
squint. She was thirty if she was a day. Oh, hell—
what a wash-out! She was still talking, but he could
not bother listening to what she was saying. Sheer
vexation made his eyes smart. He kept pace with her
down the steps, mumbling an occasional "Yes" and
"No," but somewhere inside him was a hot little angry
man who screamed and cursed at everything.

"Well," she said, when they reached the bottom door,
"I've got my sister to meet, so I'll say good night to
you."

"Good night," said Turgis miserably.

Saturday night was roaring away outside, but for him
the heart had gone out of it. He walked on mechani-
cally, so sorry for himself, so angry with everything, that
he could have cried. His head ached from being in that
rotten balcony so long. There were queer aches in his
body too. Where could he go now? Nowhere worth
going to. If you had plenty of money; evening dress;
and all that, you could go to restaurants and night clubs,