'I know you are,' he said. 'And that is why I'm offering you this umbrella of mine to protect you, and to keep forever, if... if only...'
'If only what?' my mother said.
'If only you would give me in return a pound for my taxi-fare just to get me home.'
My mother was still suspicious. 'If you had no money in the first place,' she said, 'then how did you get here?'
'I walked,' he answered. 'Every day I go for a lovely long walk and then I summon a taxi to take me home. I do it every day of the year.'
'Why don't you walk home now?' my mother asked.
'Oh, I wish I could,' he said. 'I do wish I could. But I don't think I could manage it on these silly old legs of mine. I've gone too far already.'
My mother stood there chewing her lower lip. She was beginning to melt a bit, I could see that. And the idea of getting an umbrella to shelter under must have tempted her a good deal.
'It's a lovely umbrella,' the little man said.
'So I've noticed,' my mother said.
'It's silk,' he said.
'I can see that.'
'Then why don't you take it, madam,' he said. 'It cost me over twenty pounds, I promise you. But that's of no importance so long as I can get home and rest these old legs of mine.'
I saw my mother's hand feeling for the clasp on her purse. She saw me watching her. I was giving her one of my own frosty-nosed looks this time and she knew exactly what I was telling her. Now listen, mummy, I was telling her, you simply mustn't take advantage of a tired old man in this way. It's a rotten thing to do. My mother paused and looked back at me. Then she said to the little man, 'I don't think it's quite right that I should take a silk umbrella from you worth twenty pounds. I think I'd just better give you the taxi-fare and be done with it.'
'No, no, no!' he cried. 'It's out of the question! I wouldn't dream of it! Not in a million years! I would never accept money from you like that! Take the umbrella, dear lady, and keep the rain off your shoulders!'
My mother gave me a triumphant sideways look. There you are, she was telling me. You're wrong. He wants me to have it.
She fished into her purse and took out a pound note. She held it out to the little man. He took it and handed her the umbrella. He pocketed the pound, raised his hat, gave a quick bow from the waist, and said, 'Thank you, madam, thank you.' Then he was gone.
'Come under here and keep dry, darling,' my mother said. 'Aren't we lucky. I've never had a silk umbrella before. I couldn't afford it.'
'Why were you so horrid to him in the beginning?' I asked.
'I wanted to satisfy myself he wasn't a trickster,' she said. 'And I did. He was a gentleman. I'm very pleased I was able to help him.'
'Yes, mummy,' I said.
'A real gentleman,' she went on. 'Wealthy, too, otherwise he wouldn't have had a silk umbrella. I shouldn't be surprised if he isn't a titled person. Sir Harry Goldsworthy or something like that.'
'Yes, mummy.'
'This will be a good lesson to you,' she went on. 'Never rush things. Always take your time when you are summing someone up. Then you'll never make mistakes.'
'There he goes,' I said. 'Look.'
'Where?'
&nbs
p; 'Over there. He's crossing the street. Goodness, mummy, what a hurry he's in.'
We watched the little man as he dodged nimbly in and out of the traffic. When he reached the other side of the street, he turned left, walking very fast.
'He doesn't look very tired to me, does he to you, mummy?'