“Oh, I wish I could do something like that!”
“You?”
“Why not? I came from those people. My grandfather swept the cages in Jamrach's down by the docks. He died of drink. He used to live in one horrible, squalid room near by. I remember my father taking me to see him when I was a little girl—we ourselves weren't very much better off at that time. I've been through it,” she shivered. “I know what that awful poverty is. Sometimes it seems immoral of me to live luxuriously as I do now without doing a hand's turn to help.”
“Chacun a son metier, my dear,” said I. “There's no need to reproach yourself.”
“But I think it might be my metier,” she replied earnestly, “if only I could learn it.”
“Why haven't you tried, then?”
“I've been lazy and the opportunity hasn't come my way.”
“I'll introduce you to Campion,” I said, “and doubtless he'll be able to find something for you to do. He has made a science of the matter. I'll take you down to see him.”
“Will you?”
“Certainly,” said I. There was a pause. Then an idea struck me. “I wonder, my dear Lola, whether you could apply that curious power you have over savage animals to the taming of the more brutal of humans.”