m _so_ tired!"

"Are you?" she heard behind her, in a very soft and sympathetic voice.
Sally wheeled.

"I thought it was Miss Summers," she cried.

Gaga stood there smiling shyly, and looking at her with his appealing
eyes. In this light he looked very handsome, and Sally felt almost sorry
to see that he also looked tired. His face was quite grey, and his
movements were those of an exceedingly nervous person who would always
shrink from roughness.

"I'm so sorry you should have had to work so late," he said.

"Oo, it's nothing," cried Sally. "Do me good. If I was at home I should
only be working there," she added, explanatorily. "Work, work, work."

"Don't you ever get any fun?" asked Gaga, timidly. "I mean, go out, or
anything?"

Sally shook her head. She was silhouetted against the light.

"No," she told him. "Not often." It was strange how refined her voice
automatically became when she was talking to Gaga. She was altogether
restrained. "You can't if you've got to earn your own living. And have
to get here early in the morning."

Gaga hesitated, half turned away, came back.

"I'm very sorry," he said, in his gentle, weak way. "Don't you like it?
I mean going out. Or is it just that you don't get the chance? Poor
little girl. Er-- I'm sorry. Er--it's a beautiful night, isn't it?"

"Lovely," agreed Sally. "I'm going to walk home."

He considered that. He did not seem to have anything more to say. Sally
moved to her place, and mechanically put away her scissors and thimble.
She was still in her pinafore, and she could not take that off and roll
it up while Gage was in the room. So they stood there, separated by
several yards. He took out a cigarette case, and lighted a cigarette,
throwing the match under the long table at the side of the room.

"Yes," he said reflectively. "Are you going to have dinner first?"

"Me?" laughed Sally. She shook her head. "When I get home. If I had
dinner in London it would take all my wages, and more, at a single go."
She laughed again, but not woundingly.

Gaga looked at his shoes, again at Sally, again at his shoes.

"Look here," he blurted out, "I wish you'd...."

Sally's ears were pricked; but they heard only the opening of the door
of Madam's room as Miss Summers returned. Both Sally and Gaga turned
away, as if in slight chagrin. Then Gaga backed out of the workroom. The
conversation was over. It was time to go home. Slowly Sally removed her
pinafore and rolled it