because you live in a decent, unpretending way. I should think
you're better without such friends.'

Nancy reflected, seemed about to prolong the argument, but spoke at
length in another voice.

'Well, I will say good-night, father.'

It was not usual for them to see each other after dinner, so that a
good-night could seldom be exchanged. The girl, drawing away,
expected a response; she saw her father nod, but he said nothing.

'Good-night, father,' she repeated from a distance.

'Good-night, Nancy, good-night,' came in impatient reply.





CHAPTER 6




On Tuesday afternoon, when, beneath a cloudless sky, the great
London highways reeked and roared in celebration of Jubilee, Nancy
and her friend Miss. Morgan walked up Grove Lane to Champion Hill.
Here and there a house had decked itself with colours of loyalty;
otherwise the Lane was as quiet as usual.