Ought she to walk into some of these places and tell them what she could do? She hesitated at the window of a shipping-office in Cockspur Street and at the Army and Navy Stores, but decided that perhaps there would be some special and customary hour, and that it would be better for her to find this out before she made her attempt. Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. “I am sure you will marry Nigel sooner or later, and then all your work will be thrown away. We are not animals. ‘But I will tell you this, mon vieux. By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen.
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