"Oh, no, I'm not new," said Millie very seriously. "I couldn't sleep so I came out for a walk."
The woman looked at her more closely. She was a very thin woman with a short tightly-clinging skirt and a face heavily powdered.
"Here, we'd better be moving a bit, dear, or the bobby will be on us. You do look tired. I don't think I've seen you about before."
"Yes, I am tired."
"Well, so's myself if you want to know. But I've been working a bit too hard lately. Want to save enough for a fortnight's holiday. Glebeshire. That's where I come from. Of course I wouldn't go back to my own place—not likely. But I'd like to see the fields and hedges again. Bit different from the rotten country round London."
Millie suddenly stopped.
"It's very late to go now, isn't it?" she asked. "In the middle of the night. He'll think it strange, won't he?"
"I should guess he would," said the woman, tittering. "Why, you're only a child. You've no right to be wandering about like this. You don't know what you're doing."
"It was just because I couldn't sleep," said Millie very gravely. "But I see I've done wrong. I can't disturb him this hour of the night."
She stumbled a little, her knees suddenly trembling. The woman put her arm around her. "Steady!" she said. "Here, you're ill. You'd better be getting home. Where do you live?"