Hetty wriggled with pleasure in her chair and pouted up her lips. Presently she said her hat made her head ache, and she took it off and stretched out her arms and said:—
“No more pots and pans for me! I do think you’re lovely. It’s just like a story. I call that real fun. Not like Margate. . . . Do you think I could get work as a model, or do you have to be slap-up?”
Mendel thought of the drabs who posed and he could not help smiling.
“I could only tell by your figure, though your face is all right.”
“Do you think I’m pretty?” she asked.
“Very.”
“I’ll show you my figure, if you like.”
“All right, I’ll light the gas-stove in the bedroom. It’s a little cold in here.”
He showed her into the bedroom, and when she was ready she called to him.