us for weeks."

"Why should it?"

"Who's ever wanted to love and kiss my feet and hands? But there it
is--you're a pretty girl, and all that, but you can't have everything
in this world. You've had to pay one of the chief penalties for your
attractiveness."

Just then Mavis's baby began to cry.

"It's my hard knee," remarked Miss Toombs ruefully. "They always cry
when I nurse them."

"I think he's hungry," remarked Mavis.

"Then give the boy his supper. Don't mind me."

Mavis busied herself with the preparations for sterilising the milk,
but the boy cried so lustily that, to quiet him, Mavis blushingly undid
her bodice to put the nipple of her firm, white breast in his mouth.

"It's the only thing to quiet him," explained Mavis.

"No wonder. He's got taste, has that boy. Don't turn away. It's all so
beautiful, and there's nothing wrong in nature."

"What are you thinking of?" asked Miss Toombs presently, after Mavis
had been silent for a while. "Don't you feel at home with me?"

"Don't be silly! You know you profess not to believe in Providence."

"What of it?"

"I've been in a bad way lately and I've prayed for help. Surely meeting
with you in a huge place like London is an answer to my prayer."

"Meeting you, when you were hard up, was like something out of a book,
eh?"

"Something out of a very good book," replied Mavis.

"Well, it wasn't chance at all. These sort of things never happen when
they're wanted to. I've been up in town looking for you."

"What!"

"And thereby hangs a very romantic tale."

"You've been looking for me?"

"What's the time?"

"You're not thinking of going yet? Why were you looking for me?"

"It's nearly ten," declared Miss Toombs, as she looked at her watch.
"Unless I stay the night here, I must be off."

"Where are you staying?"

"Notting Hill. I beg its pardon--North Kensington. They're quiet
people. If I'm not back soon, my character will be lost and I shall be
locked out for the night."

"I'd love you to stay. But there's scarcely room for you in this poky
little hole."

"Can't I engage another room?"

"But the expense?"

"Blow that! See if they can put me up."

Mavis talked to Miss Gussle on the subject. Very soon, Mr Gussle could
be heard panting up the stairs with an iron chair bedstead, which was
set up, with other conveniences, in the music-hall agent's office.

"Nice if he comes back and came into my room in the night," remarked
Miss Toombs.