Then Glory rose, and he led her to the door. Her heart felt big and her eyes were glistening. Aggie was in the refreshment-room. Having finished for the night, the girl had resumed her outdoor costume without removing her make-up, and was laughing merrily among a group of men and playing them off against Charlie, who was still in the sulks and drinking at the bar. When Glory appeared, Aggie fidgeted with her glove and said, “Aren't you going to see us home, Charlie?”
“No,” said Charlie.
“Where are you going to?”
“Nowhere as you can come.”
Aggie's eyes watered, and she wrenched a button off, but she only laughed and answered, “Don't think as we're throwing ourselves at your head, my man! We only wanted to know. Ta-ta!”
It was now midnight, and the streets were thin of people, but sounds of music and dancing came from nearly every open window and door.
Aggie was crying. “That's the worst of the clubs,” she said, “they lead 'em to the gambling hells. And then a young man always knows when he can tyke advantage.”
As they returned past the Swiss club somebody who was being thrown out into the street was shouting in a gurgling voice, “Let go o' my throat or I'll corpse ye!” And farther on two or three girls in their teens, with their arms about the necks of twice as many men, were reeling along the pavement and singing in a tuneless wail.