At the bottom of the Crescent they met an elderly couple who often came to see them, and whom Elsie knew well by name as Mr. and Mrs. Loman. The encounter broke up the procession, and caused a readjustment of places. Mrs. Woolley was at once claimed by the sallow, spectacled Mrs. Loman, and the children, with shrill acclamations, ran to her husband, Sonnie’s godfather and the purveyor of many small treats and presents. The doctor, after a loud and boisterous greeting, boldly joined Elsie, and both of them dropped behind the others. “Oh, I’ve wanted so to speak to you!” gasped Elsie. “Shut up--don’t make a fuss now, there’s a good girl. Keep a cheery face on you, for God’s sake, or we shall give the show away worse than we’ve done already.” Mrs. Woolley turned round. “Herbert, Mrs. Loman is just saying that she hasn’t set eyes on you for ages. Come and give an account of yourself.” She spoke in a thin, artificial voice, but her eyes blazed a command at him. The doctor stared back at her, insolent security in his manner. “Thankee, Amy, but I wouldn’t interrupt a ladies’ confab. for the world. Go on about your sky-blue-purple Sunday-go-to-meeting costumes, and I’ll keep Elsie company.” Mrs. Loman laughed and the doctor grinned back at her. White patches had appeared on the mottled surface of Mrs. Woolley’s face, but she made no rejoinder. Doctor Woolley turned to Elsie again, the merriment dropping from his manner. “That’ll shut her up for a bit,” he said between his teeth. “Has she been giving you gyp, Elsie?” “Oh, it’s been awful. I’m certain she’s found out.” “How?” “That Florrie, I suppose.” “Damn Florrie and her mischief-making! Well, kiddie, the fat’s in the fire. I’m afraid there’s only one thing for it.” “What?” “Why--why, my dear child, don’t you see for yourself--you’ll have to clear out of here. No use waiting for Amy to make a bloody row, now is there? If you simply say you’re going home again, she won’t have a leg to stand on. And if it wasn’t for--for the kids, I’d go with you.” “You wouldn’t,” said Elsie bitterly. “I may be a bit green, but I’m not green enough to swallow that.” “Don’t talk like that,” said Doctor Woolley. He slipped his hand under her arm, and at the contact, jaded and miserable as she was, her pulses leapt. His fingers squeezed her arm. “We’ve had some happy times together, little girl, eh?” he murmured in a sentimental voice. “And don’t you see that when you’re on your own again we can meet ever so much more freely. I want--you know what I want, don’t you, Elsie?” She did not respond. “What _I_ want, is to know what’ll happen to me if I go back to mother and say I’ve left Mrs. Woolley. You don’t suppose she, and my sister and my aunts, aren’t going to ask what’s happened, do you?”