A Damsel in Distress

The lady whom Mr. Willoughby had addressed as Mabel--erroneously,

for her name was Ernestine--was standing beside him with a slip of

paper.

"Six and twopence," said Ernestine.

For a moment this appalling statement drew the unhappy man's mind

from the main issue.

"Six and twopence for a cup of chocolate and a few cakes?" he

cried, aghast. "It's robbery!"

"Six and twopence, please!" said the queen of the bandits with

undisturbed calm. She had been through this sort of thing before.

Ye Cosy Nooke did not get many customers; but it made the most of

those it did get.

"Here!" Geoffrey produced a half-sovereign. "I haven't time to

argue!"

The distressed brigand showed no gratification. She had the air of

one who is aloof from worldly things. All she wanted was rest and

leisure--leisure to meditate upon the body upstairs. All flesh is

as grass. We are here today and gone tomorrow. But there, beyond

the grave, is peace.

"Your change?" she said.

"Damn the change!"

"You are forgetting your hat."

"Damn my hat!"

Geoffrey dashed from the room. He heaved his body through the door.

He lumbered down the stairs.

Out in Bond Street the traffic moved up and the traffic moved down.

Strollers strolled upon the sidewalks.

But Maud had gone.