make them late for their work! As it is, they don't do overmuch.
Do you think my girls are wicked and that you are going to make
them good and happy and save them and all that kind of thing?"

MARGOT: "Not at all; I was not thinking of them, _I_ am so very
unhappy myself."

CLIFFORDS (RATHER MOVED AND LOOKING AT ME WITH CURIOSITY): "Oh,
that's quite another matter! If you've come here to ask me a
favour, I might consider it."

MARGOT (HUMBLY): "That is just what I have come for. I swear I
would only be with your girls in the dinner interval, but if by
accident I arrive at the wrong time I will see that they do not
stop their work. It is far more likely that they won't listen to
me at all than that they will stop working to hear what I have to
say."

CLIFFORDS: "Maybe!"

So it was fixed up. He shook me by the hand, never asked my name
and I visited his factory three days a week for eight years when I
was in London (till I married, in 1894).

The East End of London was not a new experience to me. Laura and I
had started a creche at Wapping the year I came out; and in
following up the cases of deserving beggars I had come across a
variety of slums. I have derived as much interest and more benefit
from visiting the poor than the rich and I get on better with
them. What was new to me in Whitechapel was the head of the