'I do, Beauty. But I can't, don't you see. If I were a rich woman it would be different. I'd owe nobody anything. But I'm poor; it'd pull me down and . . . when a woman's down, men either kick or kiss her.'
Neville shrugged his shoulders.
'Let's go,' he said.
Silently, side by side, they walked out of the park.
CHAPTER XVIII
October was dying, its russet tints slowly merging into grey. Thin mists, laden with fine specks of soot, had penetrated into the 'Rosebud.' Victoria, in her black business dress, under which she now had to wear a vest which rather killed the tip-drawing power of her openwork blouse, was setting her tables, quickly crossing red cloths over white, polishing the glasses, arranging knives and forks in artistic if inconvenient positions. It was ten o'clock, but business had not begun, neither Mr Stein nor Butty having arrived.
'Cold, ain't it?' remarked Gertie.
'Might be colder,' said Bella Prodgitt.
Victoria came towards them, carrying a trayful of cruets.