for Mrs. Miller, of 17 Tavistock! Chronic, it was! Like aconcertina! And poor old Annie Jubb getting flurried when the materialfrayed in the scissors! Cooh! Call her a dressmaker! More like a figureof fun!
"Come in, please," said Nosey, jerking her nose. And Sally started onceagain from reverie, to follow the tall young woman from the grey-blueroom into another one which was all in a warm colour between orange andbiscuit. She swallowed quickly, and heard a little runnel of moisture inher dry throat. There was a throbbing behind her eyes. She became verysmall and clumsy, and kept her head lowered, and her hands clasped.
When a voice bade her sit down, Sally stole a quick glance at MadameGala. At once she lowered her eyes again, because they had metunexpectedly a pair of eyes more disconcerting than any she had knownsince her schooldays. Madame Gala did not employ a score of hands fornothing! She had looked at Sally the moment Sally came into the room,and did not cease to look at her. And she had very cold grey eyes, andwas very cold (really very deficient in stamina) herself. She wasterribly thin, and chilling, and capable. She was dressed in grey; butyou could not see the dress except at the bottom of the skirt and themiddle of the sleeves, because she wore a large pinafore-overall, of alighter grey and a softer material. She had no pins in her mouth, andthere were no pictures of costumes or sheets of paper patterns to beseen. But the room, all the same, was a workroom, and there was abeautiful large table in it which could have served for cutting out acostume for a giantess.
"You're Miss Minto. How old are you? Hn, small for your age. Mother andfather? When did your--oh, you're in mourning for him. How did he die?What sort of accident? Hn.... What experience have you had? Miss _What?_Oh, yes ... two years. Have you left? I see. Well, Mrs. Barrow's an oldfriend of mine, and I'd like to oblige her. Also, I want more help. Mybusiness is increasing. If you can start in a fortnight I'll pay yousix--no, I'll pay you seven shillings a week. You get here at nine inthe morning. You'll do as you're told, and behave yourself. You'll workunder a very clever lady, Miss Summers, in that room. I'll show you.Come in here...."
Sally, shaking with jubilation, followed her into a very large roomadjoining, where a number of girls were (apparently) franticallybusy--far too busy to be conscious that their employer had entered theroom. Sally did not believe that they were always so intent upon theirwork. She knew too much. To herself she said "Swank!" It was abeautifully light place, all decorated in a pale grey; and there was along deep bench all round the room. It was lighted by windows and askylight, and it was plain that a considerable amount of work was inprogress. Sally gave a dazed glance round, and looked again, saying,"Yes, ma'am; Yes, ma'am," to everything Madame Gala said; and a fewminutes later was out in the street again, engaged at seven shillings aweek, and not knowing whether she was alive or dead, awake or dreaming.The day was still before her; she had nearly ten shillings hidden in herbodice; and she was a queen amid all the surging traffic of the WestEnd--her West End--the place of her dreams, her pilgrimage, her triumph.Sally's eyes were filmed with tears. She walked away from the buildingpassionately fighting with sobs that rose from deep within her. Thetears trickled down her white cheeks. And all at once she was laughingagain, chuckling and chuckling as if this was the most splendid joke inthe world. And then, when the laughter was done, she was once againSally, deliberate, cool and unflinching. This was what she haddetermined. There were other steps to follow. She must not be too sure;she must go carefully. But all the same she would win. She was Sally.She was going to get on. She was going to be cautious. She was going tobe secure. That was her touchstone--security. Without it, she wouldnever know peace. At all costs, security. That meant keeping cool. Thatmeant watching your step. And in the end it meant making money, andhaving enough to eat, and nice clothes, and pleasures, and all that shehad never yet had. Into the eyes that had been brimming with tears, and,immediately after, with glee, there came once again a hardness, adetermination. It was the expression of a wary animal, treading amongdangers.
xiv
By an instinct, Sally turned west, so that she presently found herselfin a confusing number of small streets; but when she had extricatedherself and had mastered the geography of that part of London she wasrewarded by coming out into Park Lane, with the fine breadth of HydePark open to her eyes and her impulse towards exploration. She pretendedthat she knew the Park; but in fact to her older eyes and in its weekdayfreedom from crowds it looked so different that she could not link itwith ancient memories. Thus, for a time, its paths and its greenness andits air of great space gave her unqualified pleasure. She wandered on,observing the fallen leaves, and the few pedestrians; and looked up atthe blue sky, and marvelled to herself; and then presently she sat downupon one of the public seats and tried to get some coherence into herthoughts. She sat there for some time, her shabby little toes cocked upon the gravel before her, and she began to feel lonely and tired andrestless, as though something further had still to be done. There wasthe whole day before her. She could not stay here, because although theday was clear and fine there was a chill wind, and she was not warmlyclad. Already her hands were feeling numb in the cotton gloves, and herfeet were losing the pleasant tired tingle they had had a short timebefore. The sense of innumerable hours which had to be filled was strongupon Sally, who had never previously had so much time to herself, alone.So she rose briskly from her seat, walked along the broad pathway, andcame back to the Marble Arch, where Oxford Street began again. This timeshe was bent upon looking at the shops, and browsed for a time at thewindows of Lewis's, at the end of Orchard Street. And then she had herinspiration. A clock told her it was after half-past eleven. May's wordscame into her mind: "She might think you was takin' a day off to go tothe Zoo."
"Here, where's the Zoo," she suddenly, without a tremor, asked apoliceman.
"They got plenty white mice," the policeman said. "No good you a-goin'there."
"Saucy!" rebuked Sally. "Suppose they let you out ... on a chain."
"Quite right," said the policeman. "Didn't want to let me go. Everybodyloved little Sammy. But the Police Force wanted me."
"Fancy wanting _you_!" remarked Sally, witheringly, staring at hisgood-tempered face, and, under his helmet, at a pair of bright blueeyes. He was a "red" man. "Give 'em a bit of ginger, I suppose."
"As you go by the Marrabon Road, you just cross over and go into MadameTussaud's. You'll see a lot of old friends and relations there. CharliePeace, and Mother Dyer...."
"Who's she?" Sally demanded. "Mother Dyer. Never heard of her."
"Mother Dyer? Baby-farmer. Her you used to call 'Nursie.' Go straightalong here, and when you've looked at Madame Tussaud's, keep down theMarrabon Road till you come to the Park. See? Regent's Park, that is.And walk along the nice broad road, and you'll find the Zoo on yourleft. Good morning, my dear.... Don't let 'em keep you, will you?...Cahm alahng, 'ere; cahm alahng, 'ere." He broke off to attend to thetraffic, which he addressed in a very different way from that in whichhe had spoken to Sally; and she, rather cheered by the exchange ofbadinage, set off towards Baker Street and the Marylebone Road with anew interest in hand. Madame Tussaud's and the Zoo in one day! What aday it would have been by the time she reached the end of it. What atale she would be able to tell May in the evening!
Apart from the two visits which she made, to the wax-works and themenagerie, both of which took so long that she did not get home untilsix o'clock, Sally had no other adventure. She had lunch in the Zoo, andarrived back in Holloway with less than five shillings remaining fromher windfall. But it had been a day, and it still held marvellouspossibilities of an encounter with Toby. Her first thought on reachinghome was of him. That was why she was so deaf to her mother'scomplaining. She did not hear it. And she did not tell her mother of theday's outing. There would be time for that later. If she told her nowthere would only be trouble, and Sally was tired of trouble. When shehad explained to Miss Jubb, and had left Miss Jubb on Saturday week, shewould airily say to her mother: "I got a job in the West End, now." Seema jump! Sally wa
s conscious for the first time of a slightly sinkingheart. Suppose she didn't suit Madame Gala? Suppose she lost her new jobafter a week or two? Oh, rubbish.... Rot! Time enough for the gripeswhen she got the sack!
She could hear no sound at all from the room above. Was Toby not homeyet? He used to get home about ten minutes past six, as a rule. It wasnow a quarter-past. If she did not hear him she would go and meet May,and then call in to tell Mrs. Perce all about the news, and then comehome after her mother had gone to bed. She had her tea, turning up hernose at it, and all the time wishing for something better. For some timeafter the meal she stood about reflecting upon her