me goes by so fast, it seems hardly worth while to count
the days, does it? One day last week I did what I've never done before:
I accepted six shillings. Well, it was late and what with one thing and
another I wanted the money. Will you believe it, I very carefully, as I
thought, hid it safe away in my bag, and this man--a very rough sort of
a man he was, I'm not surprised poor Peter runs away from them--I heard
him walking about the room when I woke up in the middle of the night.
And will you believe it, he'd gone to my bag and taken out his six
shillings, as well as fourpence-halfpenny of my own which was all I had
at the moment. He was really out of the house and gone in a flash, as
they say. I wouldn't be surprised if he makes a regular trade of it with
women like myself. Well now, you can't say a man like that is any better
than my cat. I was very angry about it, but anyone soon forgets. Though
I will say it was a warning."

"I suppose you'd be glad to give up the life," said Michael, and as he
asked the question, it seemed to him in this room and in the presence of
this woman a very futile one.

"Oh, I should be glad to give it up. Yes. You see, as I say, I'm really
at anyone's mercy in here. But really what else could I do? You see, in
one way, the harm's done."

Michael looked at her tarnished hair; at her baggy cheeks raddled and
powdered; at the clumsy black upon her lashes that made so much the more
obvious the pleated lids beneath; at her neck already flaccid, and at
her dress plumped out like an ill-stuffed pillow to conceal the arid
flesh beneath. It certainly seemed as if the harm had been done.

"You see," she went on, "though I have to put up with a great deal, it's
only to be expected, after all. Now I was very severely brought up by my
father, and my mother being--well, it's no use to mince matters as they
say--my mother really was a saint. Then of course after this occurred
with the Frenchman I told you about--that really was a downward step,
though at the time I was happy and though he was always very good to me
from the beginning to the end. Still, I'm used to refinement, and I have
a great deal to put up with here in this house. Not that I dislike the
woman who keeps it. But having paid my rent regular--eight-and-six, that
is...."

"Quite enough, too," said Michael, looking up at the ceiling that was so
like the scarred surface of the moon.

"You're right. It is enough. It is quite enough.