'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 manner. 'Cool, very cool,' said Butty, approvingly, 'fine girl, fine girl.' He passed his tongue over his lips, which had suddenly gone dry. When Victoria returned to her seat Lottie had not moved; Bella sat deep in her own despair, but, behind the counter, Cora and Gladys were fixing two stern pairs of eyes upon the favourite. CHAPTER XV 'YES, sir, yes sir; I've got your order,' cried Victoria to a middle aged man, whose face reddened with every minute of waiting. 'Steak, sir? Yes, sir, that'll be eight minutes. And sautées, yes sir. Gladys, send Dicky up to four. What was yours, sir? Wing twopence extra. No bread? Oh, sorry, sir, thought you said Worcester.' Victoria dashed away to the counter. This was the busy hour. In her brain a hurtle of food stuffs and condiments automatically sorted itself out. 'Now then, hurry up with that chop,' she snapped, thrusting her head almost through the kitchen window. ''Oo are you,' growled the cook over her shoulder. 'Empress of Germany? I don't think.'