Two more people hurried along, and when they came near Liza saw that
they were Jim Blakeston and a woman whom she supposed to be his wife.

'Are you comin', Liza?' Jim said to her.

'No,' she answered. 'I didn't know you was goin'.'

'I wish you was comin',' he replied, 'we shall 'ave a game.'

She could only just keep back the sobs; she so wished she were going.
It did seem hard that she must remain behind; and all because she
wasn't going to marry Tom. After all, she didn't see why that should
prevent her; there really was no need to refuse for that. She began to
think she had acted foolishly: it didn't do anyone any good that she
refused to go out with Tom, and no one thought it anything specially
fine that she should renounce her pleasure. Sally merely thought her a
fool.

Tom was standing by her side, silent, and looking disappointed and
rather unhappy. Jim said to her, in a low voice:

'I am sorry you're not comin'!'

It was too much. She did want to go so badly, and she really couldn't
resist any longer. If Tom would only ask her once more, and if she
could only change her mind reasonably and decently, she would accept;
but he stood silent, and she had to speak herself. It was very
undignified.