_Emmy_! That was a very good boy!"

"I thought ..." heavily stammered Alf, his eyes opening in a surprised
way as he found himself thus headed off from his true intention. He
stared blankly at Jenny, until she thought he looked like the bull on
the hoardings who has "heard that they want more." Emmy stared at her
also, quite unguardedly, a concentrated stare of agonised doubt and
impatience. Emmy's face grew pinched and sallow at the unexpected strain
upon her nerves.

"That was what you thought, wasn't it?" Jenny went on impudently,
shooting a sideways glance at him that made Alf tame with helplessness.
"Poor old Em hasn't had a treat for ever so long. Do her good to go. You
did mean that, didn't you?"

"I ..." said Alf. "I ..." He was inclined for a moment to bluster. He
looked curiously at Jenny's profile, judicial in its severity. Then some
kind of tact got the better of his first impulse. "Well, I thought _one_
of you girls ..." he said. "Will you come, Em? Have to look sharp."

"Really?" Emmy jumped up, her face scarlet and tears of joy in her eyes.
She did not care how it had been arranged. Her pride was unaroused; the
other thought, the triumph of the delicious moment, was overwhelming.
Afterwards--ah, no no! She would not think. She was going. She was
actually going. In a blur she saw their faces, their kind eyes....

"Good boy!" cried Jenny. "Buck up, Em, if you're going to change your
dress. Seats! My word! How splendid!" She clapped her hands quickly,
immediately again taking up her work so as to continue it. Into her eyes
had come once more that strange expression of pitying contempt. Her