t her heart; poor girl, weak, the sport of one man,
deceived, then a pirate made to disgorge her gains by another man;
handsome, subtle, playing upon her affections and her fears. What did it
matter? Was she not in the same position, but freer because conscious;
poor slave soul. But the time had come for Victoria to make for the
Vesuvius. 'It must be getting late,' she thought, putting up her hand to
her little gold watch-brooch.

It was gone. She had it on when she left, but it could not have dropped
out, for the lace showed two long rips; it had just been torn out.
Victoria stood frozen for a moment. So this was the result of a first
attempt at love. She recovered, however. She was not going to generalise
from one woman. 'Besides,' she thought bitterly, 'the girl's theories
are the same as mine. She merely has no reservations or hesitations. The
bolder pirate, she is perhaps the better brain.'

Then she walked down Swallow Street into Piccadilly, and at once a young
man in loud checks was at her side. She looked up into his face, her
smile full of covert promise as they went into the Vesuvius together.
Victoria was now at home in the market place, and could exchange a quip
with the frequenters. Languidly she dropped her cloak into the hands of
the porter and preceded the young man into the supper-room. As they sat
at the little table before the liqueur, her eyes saw the garish room
through a film. How deadening it all was, and how lethal the draughts
sold here. An immense weariness was upon her, an immense disgust, as she
smiled full-toothed on the young man in checks. He was a cheerful
rattle, suggested the man who has got beyond the retail trade without
reaching the professions, a house agent's clerk perhaps.

'Oh, yes, I'm a merry devil, ha! ha!' He winked a pleasant grey eye.
Victoria noticed that his clothes were too new, his boots too new, his
manners too a recent acquisition.

'Don't worry. That's how you keep young, ha! ha! Besides, don't have
much time to mope in my trade!'

'What's that?' asked Victoria vacuously. Men generally lied as to their
occupation, but she had noticed that when their imagination was
stimulated their temper improved.

'Inspector of bun-punchers, ha! ha!'

'Bun-punchers?'

'Yes, bun-punchers. South Eastern Railway, you know. Got to have them
dated now. New Act of Parliament, ha! ha!'

Victoria laughed, for his cockney joviality was infectious. Then again
the room faded and r