"Lucky Peg!" said the Beggar Man.
Faith shook her head. "She doesn't think she's lucky," she answered seriously. "She's always saying how unfair things are. She hates rich people and she hates Mr. Scammel, too! She says that she would like to murder him."
"And who is Scammel?" asked the Beggar Man.
"Heeler's belongs to him," she told him. "He's ever so rich, and he's got a house in Park-lane and a place on the river, and a yacht and a car——"
"Anything else?" the man asked amusedly.
"Oh, yes, I expect so. Peg says he makes his money out of us, that he squeezes us dry to make himself rich. I think he must be something like the man who ruined my father," she added.
"Have some more cake?" said the Beggar Man.
"No, thank you."
Faith finished her tea and looked round the room. Hitherto she had only had eyes for her companion. The shop was not very full.
A girl at the next table was staring at her, and the girl in the cash desk by the door was staring, too. Faith flushed. Of course, they were both wondering what she was doing with this man, and once again the consciousness of her own shabbiness overwhelmed her.