elieved by his little blue eyes, piercing and
sparkling like those of a snake. His face was that of a man who is
looking for faults to correct.

Mr Burton strode through the shop to the counter where Cora and Gladys
at once assumed an air of rectitude while he examined the cash register.
Then, without a word, he returned towards the doorway, sweeping Lottie's
tables with a discontented glance, and came to a stop before one of
Bella's tables.

'What's this? what the devil do you mean by this?' thundered Butty,
pointing to a soiled plate and cup.

'Oh, sir, I'm sorry, I . . .' gasped Bella, 'I . . .'

'Now look here, my girl,' hissed Butty, savagely, 'don't you give me any
of your lip. If I ever find anything on a table of yours thirty seconds
after a customer's gone, it's the sack. Take it from me.'

He walked to the steps and descended into the smoking-room. Cora and
Gladys went into fits of silent mirth, pointing at poor Bella. Lottie,
unconcerned as ever, vainly tried to extract interest from the shop copy
of 'What's On.'

'Victoria,' came Butty's voice from below. 'Where's Mr Stein? Come
down.'

'He's washing, sir,' said Victoria, bending over the banisters.

'Oh, washing is he? first time I've caught him at it,' came the answer
with vicious jocularity. 'Here's a nice state of things; come down.'

Victoria went down the steps.

'Now then, why aren't these salt cellars put away? It's your job before
you come up.'

'If you please, sir, it's settling day,' said Victoria quietly, 'we open
this room again at six.'

'Oh, yes, s'pose you're right. I don't blame you. Never have to,' said
Butty grudgingly, then ingratiatingly.

'No, sir,' said Victoria.

'No, you're not like the others,' said Butty negligently coming closer
to her.

Victoria smiled respectfully, but edged a little away. Butty eyed her
narrowly, his lips smiling and a little moist. Then his hand suddenly
shot out and seized her by the arm, high up, just under the short
sleeve.

'You're a nice girl,' he said, looking into her eyes.

Victoria said nothing, but tried to free herself. She tried harder as
she felt on her forearm the moist warmth of the ball of Butty's thumb
softly caressing it.

'Let me go, sir,' she whispered, 'they can see you through the
banisters.'

'Never you mind, Vic,' said Butty drawing her towards him.

Victoria slipped from his grasp, ran to the stairs, but remembered to
climb them in a natural and leisurely ma