Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. This was followed by heavy footsteps, and in another moment the dining-room door was flung open. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. ’ If you engage me it must be upon my own merits. Ah Cum made a movement as though to follow, but reconsidered. Must be plenty of work for you to do. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. ‘How she pouted, and tried to make out that she had been imposed upon. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed.
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