question was addressed by _me_ to the sly man, and he was
embarrassed.

"Livin'! 'Taint no livin'. It's lingerin'. Leastways it would be if it
wasn't for my gell, Tilley, there. 'Er and 'er 'usban' gives us a 'and;
an' if you've got a bit about you you might 'elp us put our copper to
rights. Got a thick 'un? I'll pay it back, s'elp me Gord, if the missus
can start laundryin' agin'."

I saw that this meant "Show us which pocket you keep your money in," so
I shamelessly said, "I'll put that square in the morning, governor."
Then some silly small-talk--petty as children's babble, low as the
cackle of the bar--went on, and I found myself somehow left alone with
the snub-nosed young person. She was evidently in some trouble, and I
was the more interested about her in that I chanced to look at a side
window, and found the fat, carnivorous woman and the down-looking man
surveying us with interest, under the impression that they were
invisible.

Now, I have never cared for talking to girls of her class, for I do not
like them. All talk about soiled doves and the rest is mere nauseous
twaddle, arising from ignorance. The creatures take to their rackety
life because they like it, and, though I have met some good and kind
members of their class, I have observed that the majority are rapacious,
cruel, and devoid of every human sentiment that does not hinge on hunger
or vanity. You may treat a man as an equal in spite of his vices, and do
no harm, but to treat a woman as an equal _because_ of her vices is
worse than folly. This silly creature proposed to brush my hair. I had
encouraged her to familiarity, so I did not object to the toilet
process, but I did most strongly object to sniffing at a bottle which
she said would "freshen me up amazing." She withdrew the cork, and
memories of the college laboratory struck at my brain with
sudden violence on the instant. The unforgettable odour of ethyllic
chloride caught at my nerves, and I politely rose.

"Pardon me, I must go. It will be daylight in half an hour," I said, for
I saw that merry Miss Tilley had been ready to supplement Blackey's
device by a second trick.

"I'll come with you a little way. You're dotty a bit."

I reached the fresh air and quietly said, "No, you mustn't. The men are
going to factory up by the Fawcett-road, and every second man we meet
will know us."

Miss Tilley muttered something, but she preserved her smile and only
said, "I tell my husband as you