again, she put down Richard Feverel to look about her, and, with an
immense satisfaction, to contrast the homely cleanliness of her
surroundings with the dingy squalor of Mrs Bilkins's second floor
back. It was one of the happiest evenings she ever spent. She often
looked back to it with longing in her later stressful days.

About seven, she heard a knock at her door. She called out "Come
in," at which, after much fumbling at the door handle, a big fair
man, with wide-open blue eyes, stood in the doorway. He looked like
a huge, even-tempered child; he carried two paper-covered books in
his hand.

"I'm Farthing, miss," the man informed her.

"Good evening," said Mavis, who would scarcely have been surprised
if Farthing had brought out a handful of marbles and started playing
with them.

"The driver's out, miss, so--"

"The driver?" interrupted Mavis.

"Mrs Farthing, miss. I be only fireman when her be about," he humbly
informed her.

"Won't you sit down?"

"I? No, thankee, miss. I thought you might want summat to read, so I
brought you these."