beat of heavy feet drew nearer, and the three roysterers disappeared
in the direction of a flaming music-hall, where the second "house" was
probably commencing, while Winifred, who had stepped into the gutter to
avoid the one with the cane, turned as a stalwart, blue-coated figure
moved towards her.

"Thank you, officer," she said; "they've gone."

The man merely raised a hand as if in comprehension, and plodded back
to his post. Perhaps he felt sorry for young women who have to earn
their living, for he had, at least, appeared promptly when he was
needed; and perhaps he attached no great importance to the matter.
There is a good deal that the policeman knows and accepts with
undisturbed equanimity, which if plainly expressed would, no doubt,
form a somewhat grim commentary on our complex civilisation.

In the meanwhile Winifred went on until she let herself into a house in
a quiet street, and ascending to the second floor entered a simply
furnished room. It, however, contained a piano; and a little table on
which a typewriter stood amidst a litter of papers occupied the
opposite side of it. The girl sloughed off her waterproof, and rather
flung than hung it on a peg behind the door, after which she sat down
in a low chair beside the little fire. She was not a handsome girl,
and it was evident that she did not trouble herself greatly about her
attire. Her face was too thin, her figure too slight and spare, but
there was usually, even when she was anxious, as she certainly was that
night, a shrewdly whimsical twinkle in her eyes, and though her lips
were set her expression was compassionate.

She was, however, not the person to sit still very long, and in a
minute or two she rose and placed a little kettle on the fire, after
which she took a few scones, a coffee-pot, and a tin of condensed milk
from a cupboard. When she had spread them out upon a table she
discovered that there was some of the condensed milk upon her fingers,
and it must be admitted that she sucked them. They were little, stubby
fingers, which somehow looked capable.

"It must have been four o'clock when I had that bun and a cup of tea,"
she said.

She glanced at the table longingly: for she occasionally found it
necessary to place a certain check upon a healthy appetite. She was,
however, not singular in this respect, since the practice of such
self-denial is, unfortunately, not a very unusual thing in the case of
a good many young women