Giant’s Bread · Book II · III · Chapter 2 3 4

IV

Impossible! It couldn’t be. Nell Vereker? Pale scraggy Nell, with her pink nose and her inappropriate starched dresses. Surely it couldn’t be. Was Time capable of that kind of practical joke? If so, one couldn’t be sure of anything. That long-ago Nell, and this Nell⁠—they were two different people.

The whole world felt dreamlike. Joe was saying:

“If that’s Nell, I really must speak to her. Let’s go across.”

And then the greetings, exclamations, surprise.

“Why, of course, Joe Waite. And Vernon! It’s years ago, isn’t it?”

Very soft her voice was. Her eyes smiled into his⁠—a trifle shyly. Lovely⁠—lovely⁠—lovelier even than he had thought. Tongue-tied fool, why couldn’t he say anything? Something brilliant, witty, arresting. How blue her eyes were with their long soft golden-brown lashes. She was like the blossom above her head⁠—untouched, springlike.

A great wave of despondency swept over him. She would never marry him. Was it likely? A great clumsy tongue-tied creature such as he was. She was talking to him. Heavens! he must try and listen to what she said⁠—answer intelligently.

“We left very soon after you did. Father gave up his job.”

An echo came into his head of past gossip.

Vereker got the sack. Hopelessly incompetent⁠—it was bound to come.

Her voice went on⁠—such a lovely voice. You wanted to listen to it instead of to the words.

“We live in London now. Father died five years ago.”

He said, feeling idiotic, “Oh! I say, I’m sorry, awfully sorry!”

“I’ll give you our address. You must come and see us.”

He blundered out hopes of meeting her that evening⁠—what dance was she going to? She told him. No good there. The night after⁠—thank goodness! they’d be at the same. He said hurriedly:

“Look here. You’ve got to save me a dance or two⁠—you must⁠—we’ve not seen each other for years.”

“Oh! but can I?” Her voice was doubtful.

“I’ll fix it somehow. Leave it to me.”

It was over all too soon. Goodbyes were said. They were going upstream again.

Joe said in an incredibly matter-of-fact tone: “Well, isn’t that strange? Who would ever have thought that Nell Vereker would have turned out so good-looking? I wonder if she’s as much of an ass as ever.”

Sacrilege! He felt oceans removed from Joe. Joe couldn’t see anything at all.

Would Nell ever marry him? Would she? Probably she’d never look at him. All sorts of fellows must be in love with her.

He felt terribly despondent. Black misery swept over him.