Albert slowly shook his head as he sat on the side of the bed.
'Don't happen to me when I've bin doin' nothing,' he said. And he
proceeded to pull off his stockings.
Joe turned away, looking at himself in the mirror as he unbuttoned his
tunic.
'You didn't want to keep the appointment?' Albert asked, in a changed
voice, from the bedside.
Joe did not answer for a moment. Then he said:
'I made no appointment.'
'I'm not saying you did, boy. Don't be nasty about it. I mean you didn't
want to answer the--unknown person's summons--shall I put it that way?'
'No,' said Joe.
'What was the deterring motive?' asked Albert, who was now lying on his
back in bed.
'Oh,' said Joe, suddenly looking round rather haughtily. 'I didn't want
to.' He had a well-balanced head, and could take on a sudden distant
bearing.
'Didn't want to--didn't cotton on, like. Well--_they be artful, the
women_--' he mimicked his landlord. 'Come on into bed, boy. Don't loiter
about as if you'd lost something.'
Albert turned over, to sleep.
On Monday Miss Stokes turned up as usual, striding beside her team. Her
'whoa!' was resonant and challenging, she looked up at the truck as her
steeds came to a standstill. Joe had turned aside, and had his face
averted from her. She glanced him over--save for his slender succulent
tenderness she would have despised him. She sized him up in a steady
look.
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