The next morning, when Mavis wanted to pay Mrs Medlicott, the
station-master's wife would not hear of it. She declared that she
was amply repaid by Mavis' accompanying her husband's songs, which
was enough to make him happy for many weeks to come. Mrs Medlicott
also observed that her husband would like to take singing lessons
from Mavis, if the latter cared to teach him.

Mavis walked the good mile necessary to take her to the Melkbridge
boot manufactory with a light heart. She reached it at nine, to find
a square, unlovely building, enclosed by a high stone wall of the
usual Wiltshire type, broken slabs of oolitic formation loosely
thrown together. She explained her errand to the first person she
met inside the gate, and was told to await the arrival of Mr Gaby,
the manager, who was due in half an hour, the time, she afterwards
learned, at which the lady clerks were expected. When Mr Gaby came,
she found him to be a nervous, sandy-haired man, who blushed like
any school-girl when he addressed Mavis. A few minutes later, two
colleagues arrived, to whom she was formally introduced. The elder
of these was Miss Toombs, a snub-nosed, short, flat-chested,
unhealthy-looking woman, who was well into the thirties. She took
Mavis' proffered hand limply, to drop it quickly and set about
commencing her work. Her conduct was in some contrast to the other
girl's, who was introduced to Mavis as Miss Hunter. She was tallish,
dark, good-looking, with a self-possessed manner. The first two
things Mavis noticed about her were that she was neatly and
becomingly dressed, also that her eyebrows met above her nose. She
looked at Mavis critically for a few moments, and gave the latter
the impression that she had taken a dislike to her. Then Miss Hunter
advanced to Mavis with outstretched hand to say: