he warmth and comfort of
the restaurant for the bleakness of the street, on which a thick fog
had descended.

This enveloped the man and the woman. As they stood on the pavement, it
seemed to cut them off from the rest of the world.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE SEQUEL

"Will you let me drive you home?"

"No, thank you."

"Then you must let me walk with you."

"There's no necessity."

"I insist. London, at this time of night, isn't the place for a plain
little girl like Mavis."

"Now you're talking sense."

"I wish I thought it," he remarked bitterly.

He paid the cabman and piloted Mavis through the fog to the other side
of Regent Street; they then made for Piccadilly.

"Am I going right?" he asked.

"At present," she replied, to ask, after a moment or two, "Why are you
so extravagant?"

"I'm not."

"That supper and keeping that cab waiting! It must have run into
pounds."

"Eh! What if it did?"

"It's wicked. Just think of the good you could have done with it."

"Good? Who to?" he asked blankly.

"You've only to look about you. Don't you know of all the misery there
is in the world?"

"To tell you the truth, I've never thought very much about it."

"Then you ought to."

"You think so?"

"Most certainly."

"Then I'll have to."

They were now in Piccadilly. The pavement on which they walked was
crowded with women of all ages; some walked in pairs, others, singly.
Whatever their age and appearance, all these women had two qualities in
common--artificial complexions and bold, inviting eyes. It was the
nightly market of the women of the town. This mart has much in common
with any other market existing for the buying or selling of staple
commodities. Amongst this assembly of women of all ages and conditions
(many of whom were married), there were regular frequenters, who had
been there almost from time immemorial; occasional dabblers; chance
hucksterers: most were there compelled by the supreme necessity of
earning a living; others displayed their wares in order to provide
luxuries; whilst a few were present merely for the fun of an infrequent
bargain. As at other marts, there were those who represented the
interests of sellers, and extracted a commission for their pains on all
sales effected by their principals. Also, most of the chaffering was
negotiated over drink, to obtain which adjournment was made to the
handiest bar.

This exchange was as subject to economic laws as ruthlessly