her step. Then, irresistibly:
"What a lark!" murmured Sally. She was very demure upon Miss Summers'
return, and listened with equanimity to a few remarks made by Miss
Summers as to the capacity of Miss Rapson. In reality her thoughts were
occupied with speculations as to the entertainment which lay ahead. So
Gaga had never given Rose anything; more fool Rose! Rose! She didn't
know how to manage a man! She didn't know anything at all. She had been
born pretty, and she thought that was all you had to do. Sally had not
been born pretty; she had had to fight against physical disadvantages.
It had taught her a great deal. It had taught her the art of tactics.
Sally was very much wiser than she had been a year earlier. She had
learnt immeasurably from her contact with Toby. She had kept her eyes
open. She was unscrupulous. It was of no use to be scrupulous in this
world; you lost all the fun of the fair. Sally was hilarious at her own
irreverent unscrupulousness.

Half an hour later she slipped out, and along the street Gaga was
waiting. He raised his hat--a thing Toby would never have done if he had
left her so recently--and fell into step beside her. Sally shot a bright
eye full of assurance. As Gaga showed himself nervous, so her assurance
increased.

"Where would you like to go?" asked Gaga.

"Oo, you know better than ... I do," answered Sally, meekly. He stopped
for a moment; then turned eastward; then stopped afresh, hesitating
until Sally slightly frowned.

"Yes, we'll go to the Singe d'Or," he explained. "Unless you.... No,
we'll go to the Rezzonico. You'd like to have music, I expect. You know,
it's awfully good of you to come. I've wanted to talk to you ever since
I heard you sing so beautifully."

The Love Path! Sally gave a start. What had Mrs. Perce said! Sally might
not have a fortune in her voice, she mischievously thought; but at least
she had a dinner! Well, master Toby; and what did he think of that, if
you please?

"I'm very fond of music," she said, glibly.

"I could tell...." There was a pause. "Do you ... do you sing much?"

"No, not much." Sally was speaking like a lady. "Ai ... a ... don't get
very much taime. I'm very fond of. It's so ... it's so...." She was
rather lost for a phrase that should sound well.

"Quite, quite," agreed Gaga, eagerly.

"I wish I could play," Sally hurried to say, feeling that she had failed
in effectiveness. He was loud in protest against her modesty. "Well, I