ANGEL PAVEMENT

that had long ceased to be mere things. She realised
now, with a shock of dismay, that something absurd and
fantastic could happen in Angel Pavement, far away,
that could change all this. Their life here in Barkfield
Gardens, not their personal life, but everything else, all
the cleaning and cooking and shopping and visiting, was
a mere candle-flame-one puff of wind, a wind that came
from nowhere, and it was gone. She understood how
millions of people live. It was a moment of revelation.

"What are we going to do?" she asked.

"I don't know yet," he replied wearily. "Give me
time. I haven't had a chance to think yet. Hang it all,
this has all been dropped on me like a ton of bricks.
Godl-I'm tired."

He sounded helpless, looked helpless. Her mind
began working furiously now, and the effect, after
months and months of stagnation, of pretending and
dreaming and vague discontent, was curiously exhilarat-
ing. "Do you think Mr. Pearson could get you a job
out East?"

"No, I don't."

"But why? You haven't asked him properly, He
doesn't know you want one—if you really do want one,
and I'm not sure about that/'

"I know he doesn't, my dear. But I'm sure when he
does, he'll change his tune. I felt that when he was talk-
ing to-night. It's all right," he added bitterly, as if he
had suddenly discovered what the world was like and
what men were made of, "while it's still a joke. The
minute he finds I'm serious, hell pull a long face. I
don't mean he's not a decent chap and all that. But he
thinks he's talking to a prosperous business man who
doesn't really want a job. That's the difference/'