"One Hundred and Sixteen Baker Street."
"I'll take you. . . . There's a taxi. Why, you're nothing but a kid!"
In the taxi Millie leant her head on the woman's shoulder.
"I'm very tired but I can't sleep," she said.
"You're in some trouble I guess," the woman said.
"Yes, I am. Terrible trouble," said Millie.
"Some man I suppose. It's always the men."
"What's your name?" asked Millie. "You're very kind."
"Rose Bennett," said the woman. "But don't you remember it. I'm much better forgotten by a child like you. Why, I'm old enough to be your mother."
The taxi stopped. Millie paid for it.