to keep
away from a place of worship, feeling that her thoughts were too
occupied with her troubles to give adequate attention to the service. A
new, yet at the same time familiar dread, oppressed her. She seemed to
get relief from hurrying along the crowded pavement. She longed to get
settled for the night, but was still uncertain where to seek a lodging.
She had some thought of taking the Tube, and looking about her in the
direction of Hammersmith, but her one thought now was to get indoors
with as little delay as possible. She remembered that there was a maze
of private houses along the Tottenham Court Road, in many of which she
had often noticed that there was displayed a card, announcing that
apartments were to let. She took a 'bus to the Tottenham Court Road.
Arrived there, she got out and walked along it, to turn, presently, to
the right. Most of the houses, for all their substantial fronts, had an
indefinable atmosphere of being down at heel, perhaps because many were
almost in darkness. They looked like houses that were in no sense of
the word homes. She selected one of the least forbidding and knocked at
the door. After waiting some time, she heard footsteps scuffling along
the passage. A blowsy, elderly, red-faced woman opened the door. She
was clad in a greasy flannel dressing gown; unbrushed hair fell on her
shoulders; naked, unclean toes protruded through holes in her stockings
and slippers.

"Good evening, dear," said the woman. Mavis turned to go.

"Was you wanting rooms, my dear?"

"I was."

"I've the very thing you want. Don't run away."

Mavis hesitated.

"Don't judge of 'em by me. I ain't been quite myself, as you, being
another lady, can quite understand, an' I overslep' myself a bit; but
if you'll walk inside, you'll be glad you didn't go elsewhere."

Mavis was so tired, that she persuaded herself that the landlady's
appearance might not be indicative (as it invariably is) of the
character of the rooms.

"One moment. Oo sent yer?" asked the woman.

"No one. I saw--"

"Didn't Foxy?"

"No one did. I saw the card in the window."

"Please to walk upstairs."

Mavis followed the woman up unswept stairs to the first floor, where
the landlady fumbled with a key in the lock of a door.

"S'pose you know Foxy?" she queried.

"No. Who is he?"

"'E goes about the West End and brings me lady lodgers."

"I'm from the country," remarked Mavis.

"You a dear little bird from far away? You'v