It was indeed a very common eating house, where the men who worked on
the wharves, the fishermen and sailors, were in the habit of getting
their meals. The one dirty window showed half a dozen live crabs
crawling about inside among the pieces of sea-weed. A row of old pies
formed the background.

A moment later they had marched bravely up to the door. Dainty Eleanor
shuddered as they crossed the threshold, and even Phil and Madge
hesitated as a man's coarse laugh greeted them once they were fairly
inside the restaurant room.

"Come on, children," said Madge, with a pretence of bravery she was far
from feeling. "We are going into this restaurant to get something to
eat. Don't look as if you thought you were going to be eaten. It is
rather horrid, but perhaps they will let us have some bread and milk."

The quartette seated themselves at the first table they saw vacant.
Just across from it were a number of men with rough, hard faces. They
were evidently sailors from the nearby boats. The girls kept their
eyes on the table, and Madge gave their order for tea and sandwiches in
a low tone to the German boy who came forward to wait on them.

When the boy had departed with their order a silence settled upon the
little group of girls. In each girl's mind was the thought that it had
been unwise to enter the restaurant. By this time they had come to a
realization of the fact that they were the only women in the room.

"We ought never to have come here," whispered Lillian, clutching
Madge's arm.