"It's four pound a week I'm giving away. Tell 'em it's the first time you're going wrong; talk about your dead 'usband in 'is grave, an' the innocent little lovely baby girl in 'er cot (the gentlemen like baby girls better'n boys), as prayed for 'er mummy before she went to sleep. Then, squeeze a tear an' see if that don't touch their 'earts an' their pockets."
"Let me go! Let me go!" cried Mavis, horrified at the woman's communication.
"I thought I'd astonish you," said Miss Ewer complacently.
"Let me go. This way?"
"Too grateful to thenk me! Never mind; leave it till nex' time we meet. You can thenk me then. I thought I'd take your breath away."
"Let me out! Let me out!" cried Mavis, as she fumbled at the chain of the front door.
"Lemme. Good night, and Gawd bless yer," said Miss Ewer, furtively counting the gold pieces in her pocket.
Mavis did not reply.
"Thought I'd astonish yer. Fer Gawd's sake, don't whisper what I told you to a livin' soul. An' work 'ard and keep virtuous like me. Before Gawd, I'm as good a maid—"
These were the last words Mavis heard as she hurried away from Miss Ewer.