"I'd like you to see some roses I've got here, sir," said the proprietor; "it's not often you can see roses like those." "Exquisite," assented Conrad.... "And just a few roses, won't you?" "Well one, then," she said succumbing. "We'll have some roses!" commanded Conrad magnificently. "And those look nice--those lilies-of-the-valley. You might give us some lilies-of-the-valley, will you?" "I'll have nothing else," she told him in her first undertone. The woman's first undertone is so sweet. "A few?" he entreated. "You _ought_ to wear lilies-of-the-valley! I wish you were going to sing to-night." "Do you?" "I shall see you there, sha'n't I?" She nodded. "Yes, I shall be in 'front.'" "I'm so glad I met you!" He thought of taking them in to the hotel to tea, but her companion's toilette had been very hasty. The fly was as fragrant as a flower show when they drove away. She buried her fair face in the blossoms he had given to her. It's permissible, but it may stir the man's imagination. It stirred Conrad's; he had rarely wanted a kiss from a woman so much. In the scented dusk, as their gaze met, her eyes were luminous--like stars. The fly rattled into Corporation Road, and he wondered whether she was going to ask him if he would 'come in.' The fly stopped. "Au revoir," he said. "Victoria Hall? I have the name right?" "Won't you come and help us put the flowers in water?" she suggested. It was of interest to see her without a hat. When she took off her coat he was captivated. He stayed about ten minutes, and the other girl didn't go out of the room. Both went to the door with him when he left. "Eight o'clock, then?" he said. "Eight o'clock." "Whom shall I ask for if I don't see you?" "'Miss Daintree;' but you're sure to see me." "You won't be late?" "No, I shall be there when it begins. Good-bye--and thanks!" "Oh!--Good-bye." He saw her smile to him again from the step--and the cab turned. "What a lark! I say, isn't he mashed on you! Do you like his moustache? Hasn't he got lovely teeth?" exclaimed Tattie in the passage. "Y-e-s.... He's rather nice," said Rosalind. CHAPTER XVI Eight o'clock had just struck when Conrad arrived at the slum where he was to spend the evening. The exterior of the hall had no sanguine air. Four opaque gas globes glimmered over a narrow entrance, and, in the obscurity, a written appeal affixed by wafers was barely legible. He made it out to be: "Help the Poor _Kiss-and-Tell Girls_. Stranded in the Town through No Fault of their Own. Show your Sympathy by Patronising us." Behind a portière a disreputable-looking man, wearing a queer overcoat, sat at a small table with tickets. He asked, "Sixpence, or a shilling?" and Conrad said, "A shilling," and the man said, "Front row."