perfectly satisfied, "you know best where to take a fellow."

"But they're not pleasant places, Ned."

"I don't mind," answered Ned, lightly, though he had been looking
forward, rather, to the quiet enjoyment of a trip on a harbour steamer,
or at least to the delight of a long ramble along some beach where he
thought he and Nellie might pick up shells. "Besides, I fancy it's going
to rain before night," he added, looking up at the sky, of which a long
narrow slice showed between the tall rows of houses.

There were no clouds visible. Only there was a deepening grey in the hard
blueness above them, and the breathless heat, even at this time of day,
was stifling.

"I don't know that you'd call this a pleasant place," he commented,
adding with the frankness of an old friend: "Why do you live here,
Nellie?"

She shrugged her shoulders. The gesture meant anything and everything.

"You needn't have bothered sending me that money back," said Ned, in
reply to the shrug.

"It isn't that," explained Nellie. "I've got a pretty good billet. A
pound a week and not much lost time! But I went to room there when I was
pretty hard up. It's a small room and was cheap. Then, after, I took to
boarding there as well. That was pretty cheap and suited me and helped
them. I suppose I might get a better place but they're very kind, and I
come and go as I like, and--" she hesitated. "After all," she went on,