Jessie stood staring, and a veil of thought dropped over her
eyes. She no longer regarded the two men who were now tinkering
at the machine down below there.
"How much have you?" she said.
He thrust his right hand into his pocket and produced six coins,
counted them with his left index finger, and held them out to
her. "Thirteen four half," said Mr. Hoopdriver. "Every penny."
"I have half a sovereign," she said. "Our bill wherever we
stop--" The hiatus was more eloquent than many words.
"I never thought of money coming in to stop us like this," said
Jessie.
"It's a juiced nuisance."
"Money," said Jessie. "Is it possible--Surely! Conventionality!
May only people of means--Live their own Lives? I never thought
..."
Pause.
"Here's some more cyclists coming," said Mr. Hoopdriver.
The two men were both busy with their bicycle still, but now from
among the trees emerged the massive bulk of a 'Marlborough Club'
tandem, ridden by a slender woman in grey and a burly man in a
Norfolk jacket. Following close upon this came lank black figure
in a piebald straw hat, riding a tricycle of antiquated pattern
with two large wheels in front. The man in grey remained bowed
over the bicycle, with his stomach resting on the saddle, but his
companion stood up and addressed some remark to the tricycle
riders. Then it seemed as if he pointed up hill to where Mr.
Hoopdriver and his companion stood side by side. A still odder
thing followed; the lady in grey took out her handkerchief,
appeared to wave it for a moment, and then at a hasty motion from
her companion the white signal vanished.
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