"Yes?"
"Of course it's silly." "Well?"
"It's like this. I'm twenty-three, about. I had my schooling all
right to fifteen, say. Well, that leaves me eight years
behind.--Is it too late? I wasn't so backward. I did algebra, and
Latin up to auxiliary verbs, and French genders. I got a kind of
grounding."
"And now you mean, should you go on working?"
"Yes," said Mr. Hoopdriver. "That's it. You can't do much at
drapery without capital, you know. But if I could get really
educated. I've thought sometimes. . ."
"Why not? said the Young Lady in Grey.
Mr. Hoopdriver was surprised to see it in that light. "You
think?" he said. "Of course. You are a Man. You are free--" She
warmed. "I wish I were you to have the chance of that struggle."
"Am I Man ENOUGH?" said Mr. Hoopdriver aloud, but addressing
himself. "There's that eight years," he said to her.
"You can make it up. What you call educated men--They're not
going on. You can catch them. They are quite satisfied. Playing
golf, and thinking of clever things to say to women like my
stepmother, and dining out. You're in front of them already in
one thing. They think they know everything. You don't. And they
know such little things."
"Lord!" said Mr. Hoopdriver. "How you encourage a fellow!"
"If I could only help you," she said, and left an eloquent
hiatus. He became pensive again.
"It's pretty evident you don't think much of a draper," he said
abruptly.
Another interval. "Hundreds of men," she said, "have come from
the very lowest ranks of life.
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