Miss L. At eleven at night?
Mrs. H. And there are the Rescue Leagues. I myself have been connected with one for twenty years——
Miss L. (reflectively). "Twenty years!" Always arriving "after the train's gone"—after the girl and the Wrong Person have got to the journey's end.
(Mrs. Heriot's eyes flash.)
Jean. Where is she now?
Lady John. Never mind.
Miss L. Two nights ago she was waiting at a street corner in the rain.
Mrs. H. Near a public-house, I suppose.
Miss L. Yes, a sort of "public-house." She was plainly dying—she was told she shouldn't be out in the rain. "I mustn't go in yet," she said. "This is what he gave me," and she began to cry. In her hand were two pennies silvered over to look like half-crowns.