“Fancy your remembering her name” said Miriam with loud cheerfulness, fumbling with the curtains.
Miss Dear stood beaming indulgently.
All the way down the unlit stone staircase they rallied each other about the country garden with the deck chairs.
“Well” said Miriam from the street, “I’ll let you know about Mrs. Bailey.”
“All right dear, I shall expect to hear from you; au revoir” cried Miss Dear from the door. In the joy of her escape into the twilight Miriam waved her hand towards the indulgently smiling form and flung away, singing.
CHAPTER XXX
1
“Regular field-day, eh Miss Hens’n? Look here——” Mr. Orly turned towards the light coming in above the front door to exhibit his torn waistcoat and broken watch-chain. “Came for me like a fury. They’ve got double strength y’know when they’re under. Ever seen anything like it?”
Miriam glanced incredulously at the portly frontage.
“Fancy breaking the chain” she said, sickened by the vision of small white desperately fighting hands. He gathered up the hanging strings of bright links, his powerful padded musicianly hands finding the edges of the broken links and holding them adjusted with the discoloured ravaged fingers of an artizan. “A good tug would do it,” he said kindly. “A chain’s no stronger than the weakest link” he added with a note of dreamy sadness, drawing a sharp sigh.