Next moment Marjorie's arm was round the waif's shoulders.
"Liss, you shall come and live with me!" she said impulsively.
"Righto!" replied Liss. "I was dying to be asked, but it seemed too wonderful to be possible. I shall have to sponge on you for a bit, though. I haven't a bean until the show opens."
"That's all right," said Marjorie.
"Now, where shall we have our dug-out?" asked Liss, becoming terribly busy.
The pair spent a rapturous evening building castles in Kensington.
CHAPTER VIII
CHORUS
I
Finally they found an eyrie—a flat, somewhere in the sky at the back of Victoria Street, consisting of a big bedroom, a tiny sitting-room, a gas stove, and a surprisingly modern bath. They bought furniture at unpretentious establishments in Tottenham Court Road, laying their own carpets and hanging their own curtains. (The latter were the only really essential articles of domestic furniture in those days of aerial visitation.) Marjorie hung up a few reprints and photographs; Liss contributed a portrait of her nebulous and anonymous fiancé, together with seventeen picture post cards of stage celebrities; and the ideal home was opened.