nt to
cry. She wanted to go out in the darkness that so pleasantly enwrapped
the earth, back to the stir and glitter of life somewhere beyond.
Abruptly Jenny sighed. Her vision had been far different from this
scene. It had carried her over land and sea right into an unexplored
realm where there was wild laughter and noise, where hearts broke
tragically and women in the hour of ruin turned triumphant eyes to the
glory of life, and where blinding streaming lights and scintillating
colours made everything seem different, made it seem romantic,
rapturous, indescribable. From that vision back to the cupboard-like
house in Kennington Park, and stodgy Alf Rylett, and supper of stew and
bread and butter pudding, and Pa, and this little sobbing figure in her
arms, was an incongruous flight. It made Jenny's mouth twist in a smile
so painful that it was almost a grimace.

"Oh lor!" she said again, under her breath, as she had said it earlier.
"_What_ a life!"

CHAPTER II: THE TREAT

i

Gradually Emmy's tearless sobs diminished; she began to murmur broken,
meaningless ejaculations of self-contempt; and to strain away from
Jenny. At last she pushed Jenny from her, feverishly freeing herself, so
that they stood apart, while Emmy blew her nose and wiped her eyes. All
this time they did not speak to each other, and when Emmy turned blindly
away Jenny mechanically took hold of the kettle, filled it, and set it
to boil upon the gas. Emmy watched her curiously, feeling that her nose
was cold and her eyes were burning. Little dry tremors seemed to shake
her throat; dreariness had settled upon her, pressing her down; making
her feel ashamed of such a display of the long secret so carefully
hoarded away from prying glances.

"What's that for?" she miserably asked, indicating the kettle.

"Going to steam my hat," Jenny said. "The brim's all floppy." There was
now only a practical note in her voice. She, too, was ashamed. "You'd
better go up and lie down for a bit. I'll stay with Pa, in case he falls
into the fire. Just the sort of thing he _would_ do on a night like
this. Just because you're upset."

"I shan't go up. It's too cold. I'll sit by the fire a bit."

They both went into the kitchen, where the old man was whistling under
his breath.

"Was there any noos on the play-cards?" he inquired after a moment,
becoming aware of their presence. "Emmy--Jenny."

"No, Pa. I told you. Have to wait till Sunday. Funny thing the