"I—I wonder whether I might call on you some day—where you live?"
"Unfortunately, we don't live anywhere—except here—we only sleep."
"Not on Sundays?"
"We have not made ourselves comfortable, even for Sundays, yet. She was so afraid of incurring expense till she saw how the business was going to answer. Now she is talking of a proper sitting-room, but of course it will take a little time. We used up our furniture for this." Sarah looked at him again, and, after an inward struggle, added in a lower tone, "We spend nearly all our fine evenings on the St. Kilda pier. Being kept in all day, we want air when we can get it, and sea air, if possible. She loves the sea, and it is easy to get down there when the tea-room is shut. Mrs. Oxenham recommended it."
He held out his hand—though the room was full, and three women who wanted his attentions for themselves were watching him—and his eyes said "Thank you" as plainly as eyes could speak. Carefully looking away from the spot where Jenny was busy, but hungrily observing him, and from the faces of his lady acquaintances, he plunged down the stairs, and swung away to his club, with a light step.
At the top of Collins Street he encountered the carriage, with Maude and Mary in it, and they stopped to speak to him.
"Come home to dinner with us, Tony," his stepmother entreated, with all her smiles and wiles.
"Can't," he briefly answered her.
"Oh, why not? We are just going out."
"Another engagement, unfortunately."