"'Have a snack?' said Matilda. 'Prue, get him a plate and a knife and fork and a glass. One glass of this beer won't hurt your driving. Why! we haven't seen you for ages!'
"'Thank you, Miss Good,' said Ernest, who was always very polite to her, 'I will 'ave a snack. I bin' here, there and everywhere, but it isn't that I haven't wanted to call on you.'
"Refreshment was administered and conversation hung fire for awhile. One or two starts were made and came to an early end. Ernest's manner suggested preoccupation and Matilda regarded him keenly. 'And what have you got to tell us, Ernie?' she said suddenly.
"'We-el,' said Ernest, 'it's a curious thing you should say that, Miss Good, for I 'ave got something to tell you. Something—well, I don't know 'ow to put it—curious like."
"Matilda refilled his glass.
"'I seen Fanny," said Ernest, coming to it with violent abruptness.
"'No!' gasped my mother, and for a moment no one else spoke.
"'So!' said Matilda, putting her arms on the table and billowing forward, 'you've seen Fanny! Pretty little Fanny that I used to know. And where did you see her, Ernie?'
"Ernest had some difficulty in shaping out his story. 'It was a week last Tuesday,' he said after a pause.
"'She wasn't—not one of Them—about Victoria Station?' panted my mother.