as steady as a rock, but
she knew without looking that the end of her nose was red, for drink
affected that organ as heat affects a poker. Ada looked round with
affection on the small room with the sporting prints, the whisky
calendar, and the gong. For months past she had felt more at home there
than at the "Silver Shoe."

She had never forgotten the scene that had followed her first visit to
this room, when Jonah, surprised by her good humour, had smelt brandy
on her breath. The sight of a misshapen devil, with murder in his
eyes, spitting insults, had sobered her like cold water. She had
stammered out a tale of a tea-room where she had been taken ill, and
brandy had been brought in from the adjoining hotel. Mrs Herring, who
had spent a lifetime in deceiving men, had prepared this story for her
as one teaches a lesson to a child, but she had forgotten it until she
found herself mechanically repeating it, her brain sobered by the
shock. For a month she had avoided the woman with the hairy lip, and
then the death of her mother had removed the only moral barrier that
stood between her and hereditary impulse.

Since then she had gone to pieces. Mrs Herring had prescribed her
favourite remedy for grief, a drop of cordial, and Jonah for once found
himself helpless, for Mrs Herring taught Ada more tricks than a monkey.
Privately she considered Ada a dull fool, but she desired her company,
for she belonged to the order of sociable drunkards, for whom drink has
no flavour without company, and who can no more drink alone than men
can smoke in the dark. Ada was an ideal companion, rarely breaking the
thread of her ceaseless babble, and never forgetting to pay for her
share. It was little enough she could squeeze out of Aaron, and often
she drank for the afternoon at Ada's expense.

She looked anxiously at Ada, and then at the clock. For she drank with
the precision of a patient taking medicine, calculating to a drop the
amount she could carry, and allowing for the slight increase of
giddiness when she stepped into the fresh air of the streets. But
to-day she felt anxious, for Ada had already drunk a glass too much,
and turned from her coaxings with an obstinate smile. The more she
drank, she thought, the less she would care for what Jonah said when
she got home. Mrs Herring felt annoyed with her for threatening to
spoil a pleasant afternoon, but she talked on to divert her thoughts
from the brandy.

"And remembe