The girl had
trouble before her. He was sure she was going to be a governess.
After she had walked for half an hour she looked round for a sheltered
corner and sat down. But the place she had chosen was only comparatively
sheltered, and presently Stephen fancied that he saw her shivering with
cold. He could not bear this, knowing that he had a rug which Molton had
forced upon him to use on board ship between Marseilles and Algiers. It
was in a rolled-up thing which Molton called a "hold-all," along with
some sticks and an umbrella, Stephen believed; and the rolled-up thing
was on deck, with other hand-luggage.
"Will you let me lend you a rug?" he asked, in the tone of a benevolent
uncle addressing a child. "I have one close by, and it's rather cold
when you don't walk."
"Thank you very much," said the girl. "I should like it, if it won't be
too much trouble to you."
She spoke simply, and had a pretty voice, but it was an American voice.
Stephen was surprised, because to find that she was an American upset
his theories. He had never heard of American girls coming over to Paris
with the object of training to be governesses.
He went away and found the rug, returning with it in two or three
minutes. The girl thanked him again, getting up and wrapping the dark
soft thing round her shoulders and body, as if it had been a big shawl.
Then she sat down once more, with a comfortable little sigh.
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