"You needn't be jealous of me; let's have a look."
The servant urged Mavis to stand by the flaring gas, where she looked her up and down, Mavis thought maliciously.
"H'm! Wonder how long it'll be before I have to pray for you?"
"Eh!"
"Same as I has to for the others."
"I don't understand."
"Look on the bed; see 'ow they leave their clothes, and such clothes. That's what their souls is like."
"Indeed!" said Mavis, scarcely knowing what to say.
"All the same, I prays for them, though what God A'mighty thinks o' me for all the sinners I pray for, I can't think. Supper's downstairs, if you can eat it; and my name's Bella."
Bella left the room. Mavis thought that she rather liked her than otherwise, despite her rudeness earlier in the evening. Mavis unpacked her more immediate requirements before seeking supper in the basement. She descended to the floor on which was the passage communicating with the street, but the staircase leading to the supper-room was unlit, therefore she was compelled to grope her way down; as she did so, she became aware of a disgusting smell which reminded Mavis of a time at Brandenburg College when the drains went wrong and had to be put right. She then found herself in a carpetless passage lit by gas flaming in a wire cage; here, the smell of drains was even more offensive than before. There was a half-open door on the right, from which came the clatter of knives and plates. Mavis, believing that this was the supper-room, went in.