''Well, since you''re a celebrity. . .''
Florence ate the pie, helped out by Ruth. The singers at the piano grew weary and hoarse, and went back to their billiards. The gay girls in the stall next door got up, and pinned on their hats: they were off, I suppose, to start work, in the more ordinary publics of Wapping and Limehouse. Nora yawned and, seeing her, we all yawned, and Florence gave a sigh.
''Shall we go?'' she asked. ''I think it must be very late.''
''It is almost midnight,'' said Miss Raymond. We stood, to button our coats on.
''I must just have a word with Mrs Swindles,'' I said, ''to thank her for my pie''; and when I had done that - and been seized and saluted by half-a-dozen women on the way -1 wandered over to the billiard corner, and nodded to Jenny.
''Good-night to you,'' I said. ''I''m glad you won your shilling.''
She took my hand and shook it. ''Good-night to you, Miss King! The shilling was nothing compared to the pleasure of having you here among us all.''
''Shall we see you here again, Nan?'' her friend with the tattoo called then. I nodded: ''I hope so.''
''But you must sing us a proper song next time, on your own, in all your gentleman''s toggery.''