She was recalled to more fitting sentiments by Miss Percival's voice in her ear.
"Don't you think Florrie had better have something to eat at once?" she said urgently. "She's hysterical!"
Mary agreed, and they moved away to an eating-house known to Florrie.
The interior of the eating-house, unlike the pawn-shop, was full of interest, but Mary forgot to study the people seated at its tables; nor did she drink the milk, which, to put Florrie at her ease, she had ordered for herself and Miss Percival. She was very much puzzled by the fair young man. He ought to have shown forth his wickedness on his face, he ought to have filled Mary's soul with a shudder of loathing, and he had not. She had meant to banish the subject as quickly as possible from Florrie's mind, but she could not help—when Florrie had finished her soup—asking her a few questions.
"Why couldn't he have offered to marry you, my dear?" she said. "Is he married?"
Florrie was feeling better now. She put her spoon down neatly like a lady, and answered with some of her old deference:
"No, he's not married, ma'm, but he's a gentleman. He's a merchant in his father's office and he lives at home and gets a pound a week. His father would have turned him out if he'd married me. Or he would have, he told me so. But I wouldn't never have married 'im. He wasn't my sort." Her attention wavered to the sausages which the waiter was putting before her.
This composed reply added to Mary's discomfort. If the villain who had tried to wreck Florrie's soul lived on a pound a week, he must have saved up to buy the bracelet. Or perhaps he hadn't paid for it, perhaps he wanted to take it back to the shop himself. Mary couldn't believe that that feeble little man would ever have prosecuted Florrie. She reminded herself that he hadn't been too feeble, all the same, to drive the poor child to stealing. What a horrible tangle it was! She left the table hastily and went to the counter, where she bought eggs and sandwiches for Mrs. Wilson. She realised that she was, more or less, in charge of Mrs. Wilson and suddenly she felt very tired. But Mrs. Wilson's future was a burden that Mary was to be spared. When they arrived on the doorstep of No. 100, they found the landlady was in the hall waiting for them. She was full of importance, of mystery, almost of triumph. She addressed herself to Florrie. "Your ma's been took bad," she said, "just after you gone out. I 'eard 'er shriek, as it 'appened, an' I sent for the doctor. But it wer'n't no good, the poor thing were gone before he came. It's a miracle she lived so long, 'e said!"
Mary was conscious of a great relief.