At last, Mavis was satisfied. She lay back silent and helpless on her plush seat, enjoying to the full the sensation of the rich, fat food nourishing her body. She closed her eyes and was falling into a deep sleep.
"Have some coffee and brandy," said Miss Toombs.
Mavis pulled herself together and drank the coffee.
"I'd give my soul for a cigarette," murmured Mavis, as she began to feel more awake.
"Blow you!" complained Miss Toombs, as she signalled to the waiter.
Mavis looked at her surprised, when her hostess said:
"You're prettier than ever. When I first saw you, I was delighted to think you were 'going off.'"
Mavis, regardless what others might think of her, lit the cigarette. Although she took deep, grateful puffs, which she wholly enjoyed, she soon let it go out; neither did she trouble to relight it, nor did she pay any attention to Miss Toombs's remarks. Mavis's physical content was by no means reflected in her mind. Her conscience was deeply troubled by the fact of her having, as it were, sailed with her benefactress under false colours.
Her cogitations were interrupted by Miss Toombs putting a box of expensive cigarettes (which she had got from the waiter) in her hand.
"Why are you so good to me?" asked Mavis.