answered."

But Jack was not listening. There are times in the life of every man
when a petticoat is more attractive to him than all the philosophy of
the world.

Ernest was a little hurt, and it was not without some silent
remonstrance that he acquiesced when Jack invited to their table two
creatures that once were women.

"Why?"

"But they are interesting."

"I cannot find so."

They both had seen better times--of course. Then money losses came, with
work in shop or factory, and the voice of the tempter in the commercial
wilderness.

One, a frail nervous little creature, who had instinctively chosen a
seat at Ernest's side, kept prattling in his ear, ready to tell the
story of her life to any one who was willing to treat her to a drink.
Something in her demeanour interested him.

"And then I had a stroke of luck. The manager of a vaudeville was my
friend and decided to give me a trial. He thought I had a voice. They
called me Betsy, the Hyacinth Girl. At first it seemed as if people
liked to hear me. But I suppose that was because I was new. After a
month or two they discharged me."