Mavis uncovered her eyes. The tea-shop, the music, the indefinable odour of women all seemed bizarre after her communion with the Most High. She made ready to go.
"Are you in trouble?" said a voice at her elbow.
"Yes," she replied.
"I must help you," said the voice.
Mavis saw a richly dressed, bejewelled, comfortable-looking woman at her side.
She was not in the least surprised; a friend had been sent in answer to her prayer.
"Is it over money?" asked the instrument.
Mavis nodded.
"I thought as much. I saw you outside the tea-shop and followed you in. Is your time your own?"
"Absolutely."