Here he turned his head so that his eyes leered at her. Mavis
repressed an inclination to throw the teapot at his head. He went
on:

"To-day, we made a mistake; we offended a rich and important
customer. That would be a serious matter for you if I reported it,
but, as I gather, you're now a sensible little girl, you may make it
worth my while to save you."

Mavis bit her lip.

"What if you're still a little fool? You will get the sack; and
girls from 'Dawes'' always find it hard to get another job. You will
wear yourself out trapesing about after a 'shop,' and by and by you
will starve and rot and die."

Mavis trembled with anger. The man went on talking. His words were
no longer coherent, but the phrases "make you manageress"--"four
pounds a week"--"share the expenses of a little flat together," fell
on her ear.

"Say no more," Mavis was able to cry at last.

The next moment, Mavis felt the man's arms about her, his hot,
gasping breath on her cheek, his beard brushing against her mouth,
in his efforts to kiss her. The attack took her by surprise.
Directly she was able to recover herself, she clawed the fingers of
her left hand into his face and forced his head away from her till
she held it at arm's length. Orgles's head was now upon one side, so
that one of his eyes was able to glare hungrily at her; his big