st of appetising foods under Mavis's nose.

"I'm really not a bit hungry," declared Mavis, who avoided looking at
the toothsome-looking bread-rolls as far as her ravening hunger would
permit. She grasped the tablecloth to stop herself from attacking these.

"Got any real turtle soup?" asked Miss Toombs of the polyglot waiter
who now stood beside the table.

"Mock turtle," said the man, as he put his finger on this item in the
menu card.

"Two oxtail soups," Miss Toombs demanded.

"Apres?"

"Two stewed scallops, and after that some lamb cutlets, new potatoes,
and asparagus."

"Bon! Next, meiss," said the waiter, who began to think that the
diner's prodigality warranted an unusually handsome tip.

Miss Toombs ordered roast ducklings and peas, together with other
things, which included a big bottle of Burgundy, the while Mavis stared
at her wide-eyed, open-mouthed; the starving girl could scarcely
believe her ears.

"Is it--is it all true?" she murmured.

"Is what true?"

"Oh, meeting with you."

"Why? Have I altered much?"

It seemed a long time to Mavis till the soup was placed before her.
Even when its savoury appeal made her faint with longing, she said:

"I'm--I'm really not a bit--"

She got no further. She had taken a mouthful of the soup, to hold it
for a few moments in her mouth. She had no idea till then that it was
possible to enjoy such delicious sensations. Once her fast was broken,
the floodgates of appetite were open. She no longer made pretence of
concealing her hunger; she would not have been able to if she had
wished. She swallowed great mouthfuls of food greedily, silently,
ravenously; she ate so fast that once or twice she was in danger of
choking. If anyone had taken her food away, she would have fought to
get it back. Thus Mavis devoured course after course, unaware, careless
that Miss Toombs herself was eating next to nothing, and was watching
her with quiet satisfaction from the corners of her eyes.

At last, Mavis was satisfied. She lay back silent and helpless on her
plush seat, enjoying to the full the sensation of the rich, fat food
nourishing her body. She closed her eyes and was falling into a deep
sleep.

"Have some coffee and brandy," said Miss Toombs.

Mavis pulled herself together and drank the coffee.

"I'd give my soul for a cigarette," murmured Mavis, as she began to
feel more awake.

"Blow you!" complained Miss Toombs, as she signalled to the waiter.

Mavis