rk
under 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 room
adjoining, where a number of girls were (apparently) frantically
busy--far too busy to be conscious that their employer had entered the
room. Sally did not believe that they were always so intent upon their
work. She knew too much. To herself she said "Swank!" It was a
beautifully light place, all decorated in a pale grey; and there was a
long deep bench all round the room. It was lighted by windows and a
skylight, and it was plain that a considerable amount of work was in
progress. Sally gave a dazed glance round, and looked again, saying,
"Yes, ma'am; Yes, ma'am," to everything Madame Gala said; and a few
minutes later was out in the street again, engaged at seven shillings a
week, 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 her
bodice; and she was a queen amid all the surging traffic of the West
End--her West End--the place of her dreams, her pilgrimage, her triumph.
Sally's eyes were filmed with tears. She walked away from the building
passionately fighting with sobs that rose from deep within her. The
tears trickled down her white cheeks. And all at once she was laughing
again, chuckling and chuckling as if this was the most splendid joke in
the world. And then, when the laughter was done, she was once again
Sally, deliberate, cool and unflinching. This was what she had
determined. 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 to
be secure. That was her touchstone--security. Without it, she would
never know peace. At all costs, security. That meant keeping cool. That
meant watching your step. And in the end it meant making money, and
having enough to eat, and nice clothes, and pleasures, and all that she
had never yet had. Into the eyes that had been brimming with tears, and,
immediately after, with glee, there came once again a hardness, a
determination. It was the expression of a wary animal, treading among
dangers.

xiv

By an instinct, Sally turned west, so that she presently found herself
in a confusing number of small streets; but when she had extricated
herself and had mastered the geography of that part of