the
police court. She had never defied Jonah before, but her anger was
burning with a steady flame. She'd show him!

"I'll meet yer at three o'clock opposite the church," she cried, and
walked away.

She gave Jonah his meal in silence, and sent Ray off on a message
before two o'clock. But Jonah seemed to have nothing to do this
afternoon, and sat, contrary to custom, reading the newspaper. Ada
watched the clock anxiously, fearing she would be baulked. But, as
luck would have it, Jonah was suddenly called into the shop, and the
coast was clear. It never took Ada long to dress; her clothes always
looked as if they had been thrown on with a pitchfork, and she slipped
down the outside stairs into the lane at the back. It was the first
time she had gone out without telling Jonah where she was going and
when she would be back. And afterwards she could never understand why
she crept out in this furtive manner. Mrs Herring was waiting, dressed
in dingy black, a striking contrast to Ada's flaring colours. They
walked up Regent Street, as Mrs Herring said she wanted to buy a
thimble.

But when they reached Redfern Street, Mrs Herring put her hand suddenly
to her breast and cried "Oh, dearie, if you could feel how my heart is
beating! I really feel as if I am going to faint. I've suffered for
years with my heart, and the doctor told me always to take a drop of
something soothing, when I had an attack."

They were opposite the "Angel", no longer sinister and forbidding in
the broad daylight. The enormous lamps hung white and opaque; the huge
mirrors reflected the cheerful light of the afternoon sun. The
establishment seemed harmless and respectable, like the grocer's or
baker's. But from the swinging doors came a strong odour of alcohol,
enveloping the two women in a vinous caress that stirred hidden desires
like a strong perfume.

"Do you think we could slip in here without being seen?" said the
housekeeper.

"If ye're so bad as all that, we can," replied Ada.

Mrs Herring turned and slipped in at the side door with the dexterity
of customers entering a pawnshop, and Ada followed, slightly
bewildered. The housekeeper, seeming quite familiar with the turnings,
led the way to a small room at the back. Ada looked round with great
curiosity. She had never entered a hotel before in this furtive
fashion. In Cardigan Street she had always fetched her mother's beer
in a jug from the bar. On the walls were two s