"Let's go in there an' change it," she said, nodding toward a small pork
and ham shop near by. "An' then yer can take care of it for me."

"What did she call you?" Antony Dart asked her as they went.

"Glad. Don't know as I ever 'ad a nime o' me own, but a little cove as
went once to the pantermine told me about a young lady as was Fairy
Queen an' 'er name was Gladys Beverly St. John, so I called mesself
that. No one never said it all at onct--they don't never say nothin'
but Glad. I'm glad enough this mornin'," chuckling again, "'avin' the
luck to come up with you, mister. Never had luck like it 'afore."

They went into the pork and ham shop and changed the sovereign. There
was cooked food in the windows--roast pork and boiled ham and corned
beef. She bought slices of pork and beef, and of suet-pudding with a
few currants sprinkled through it.

"Will yer 'elp me to carry it?" she inquired. "I'll 'ave to get a few
pen'worth o' coal an' wood an' a screw o' tea an' sugar. My wig, wot a
feed me an' Polly'll 'ave!"

As they returned to the coffee-stand she broke more than once into a
hop of glee. Barney had changed his mind concerning her. A solid
sovereign which must be changed and a companion whose shabby gentility
was absolute grandeur when compared with his present surroundings made a
difference.

She received her mug of coffee and thick slice of bread and dripping
with a grin, and swallowed the hot sweet liquid down in ecstatic gulps.