ere invited to drink by several of the
men who were standing there, but they got into the streets at last.

"They're rather messy, those bars," said Aggie; "but managers like you to
come round and tyke something after you've done your turn--if it's only a
cup of cawfy."

"Do you like this life?" said Glory, taking a long breath.

"Yes, awfully!" said Aggie.

Their next visit was to a Swiss club, which did not greatly differ from
the Italian one, except that the hall was more shabby, and that the
audience consisted of French and Swiss waiters and skittish young English
milliners. The girls had taken their hats and cloaks off and sat dressed
like dolls in white muslin with long streamers of bright ribbon. A
gentleman sang the "Postman's Knock," with the character accompaniment of
a pot hat and a black-edged envelope, a lady sang "Maud" in silk tights
and a cloak, Aggie danced her skirt dance, and then the floor was cleared
for a ball.

"They're going to dance the Swiss dance," said Aggie, "and the M. C. wants
me to tyke a place; but I hate these fellows to be hugging me. Will you
be my partner, dear?"

"Well--just for a minute or two," said Glory, with nervous gaiety. And
then the dance began.

It proved to be a musical version of odd man out, and Glory soon found
herself being snapped up by other partners and addressed familiarly by
the waiters and their women. She could feel the moisture of their hands
and smell the oil of their hair, and a feeling like a spasm of physical
pain came over her.

"Let us go," she whispered.

"Yes, it's getting lyte," said Aggie, and they crushed through the
crowded bar and out into the street.

The twanging of the fiddles, the thud of the dancing, and the peals of
coarse laughter followed them from the stifling atmosphere within, and
Glory felt sick and faint.

"Do you say that managers of good places call at these clubs sometimes?"

"Often," said Aggie, and she hummed a music-hall tune as she skipped and
tripped along.

The streets, which had been dark and quiet when they arrived in Soho,
were now ablaze with lights in every window, and noisy with people on
every pavement. The last club they had to visit was a German one, and as
they came near it they saw that a man was standing at the door bareheaded
and looking out for somebody.

"It's Charlie," said Aggie with a little jump of joy. But when they came
up to him a scowl darkened his dark face, and he said:

"Lyte as u