"Here--take fifty francs, darling, take a hundred!" I saw Mrs. Raddick
pressing notes into her hand as they passed through the swing doors.

Hennie and I stood on the steps a minute, watching the people. He had a
very broad, delighted smile.

"I say," he cried, "there's an English bulldog. Are they allowed to take
dogs in there?"

"No, they're not."

"He's a ripping chap, isn't he? I wish I had one. They're such fun. They
frighten people so, and they're never fierce with their--the people they
belong to." Suddenly he squeezed my arm. "I say, do look at that old
woman. Who is she? Why does she look like that? Is she a gambler?"

The ancient, withered creature, wearing a green satin dress, a black
velvet cloak and a white hat with purple feathers, jerked slowly, slowly
up the steps as though she were being drawn up on wires. She stared in
front of her, she was laughing and nodding and cackling to herself; her
claws clutched round what looked like a dirty boot-bag.

But just at that moment there was Mrs. Raddick again with--her--and
another lady hovering in the background. Mrs. Raddick rushed at me. She
was brightly flushed, gay, a different creature. She was like a woman
who is saying "good-bye" to her friends on the station platform, with
not a minute to spare before the train starts.

"Oh, you're here, still. Isn't that lucky! You've not gone. Isn't that
fine! I've had the most dreadful time with--her," and she waved to
her daughter, who stood absolutely still, disdainful, looking down,
twiddling her foot on the step, miles away. "They won't let her in. I
swore she was twenty-one. But they won't believe me. I showed the man
my purse; I didn't dare to do more. But it was no use. He simply
scoffed... And now I've just met Mrs. MacEwen from New York, and she just
won thirteen thousand in the Salle Privee--and she wants me to go back
with her while the luck lasts. Of course I can't leave--her. But if
you'd--"

At that "she" looked up; she simply withered her mother. "Why can't
you leave me?" she said furiously. "What utter rot! How dare you make
a scene like this? This is the last time I'll come out with you. You
really are too awful for words." She looked her mother up and down.
"Calm yourself," she said superbly.

Mrs. Raddick was desperate, just desperate. She was "wild" to go back
with Mrs. MacEwen, but at the same time...

I seized my courage. "Would you--do you care to come to tea with--us?"

"Yes, yes