heart had not inspired her lips. There had been some reason for
this: every morning she had been devoured by eagerness to get work;
at night, she had been too weary and dispirited to pray earnestly.
Mavis covered her eyes with her hands; she prayed heartfully and
long for help. Words welled from her being; their burden was:

"I am young; I love life; help me to live, if only for a little
while, in this glorious, wonderful world of Thy making. I only ask
for bread, for which I am eager to work. Help me! Help me! Help me!"

Mavis uncovered her eyes. The tea-shop, the music, the indefinable
odour of women all seemed bizarre after her communion with the Most
High. She made ready to go.

"Are you in trouble?" said a voice at her elbow.

"Yes," she replied.

"I must help you," said the voice.

Mavis saw a richly dressed, bejewelled, comfortable-looking woman at
her side.

She was not in the least surprised; a friend had been sent in answer
to her prayer.

"Is it over money?" asked the instrument.

Mavis nodded.