She had received no leisure to see her friends of the tenement or the settlement during the days of her service, and she could not bring herself to seek them now that the black bird had again perched upon her forlorn banner. For half an hour she wandered aimlessly through the quieter streets; for another half-hour she endeavored to gather her courage. It was three o'clock in the afternoon before, desperate, she had inquired of a policeman for the whereabouts of an employment-agency, had found the grimy place, passed through the gloomy room with lines of toil-worn slatterns seated along its walls, and stated, in hesitant accents, her mission to the fat and frowzy woman in charge at a littered desk in the room beyond.
That woman—she had a steady, calculating eye—looked at her victim with a curious appraisement.
"What experience?" she asked.
"Very little," admitted Violet.
"Well are you——" The woman's voice dropped to the tone of discretion.—"Are you particular?"
"Why no," said Violet sadly, "I ain't particular, so as it's quiet."
The mistress smiled sagely.
"We can fix that all right," said she.
But she said it so knowingly that Violet found herself hurriedly adding:
"An' so long as it's decent."