"Doctor's fee," said Mrs Gowler, as she thrust herself between the doctor and the bed.
Mavis put the shilling in her hand, at which the landlady left the room, to be quickly followed by the doctor, who seemed equally eager to go. Mavis, with aching head, wondered if the evening post would bring her the letter she hungered for from North Kensington.
An hour later, a note was thrust beneath her door. She got out of bed to fetch it, to read the following, scrawled with a pencil upon a soiled half sheet of paper:—
"Don't you go and be a fool and have no more of Piggy's doctors. He isn't a doctor at all, and is nothing more than a coal merchant's tally-man, who got the sack for taking home coals in the bag he carried his dinner in. My baby is all right, but he squints. Does yours?—I remain yours truly, the permannente, MILLY BURT."
Anger possessed Mavis at the trick Mrs Gowler had played in order to secure a further shilling from her already attenuated store, an emotion which increased her distress of mind. When Mrs Gowler brought in the midday meal, which to-day consisted of fried fish and potatoes from the neighbouring fried fish shop, Mavis said:
"If that man comes here again, I'll order him out."
"The doctor!" gasped Mrs Gowler.
"He's an impostor. He's no doctor."
"'E's as good as one any day, an' much cheaper."
"How dare he come into my room! I shall stop the shilling out of my bill."