"What are you doing?" asked Mavis. The woman entered into a confused explanation, which Mavis cut short by saying: "I've heard about your tricks. If I have any more bother from you, I shall go straight from here to the police station." "Gawd's truth! Why did I ever take you in?" grumbled Mrs Gowler as she waddled downstairs. "I might 'ave known you was a cat by the colour of your 'air." The time came when Mavis was able to leave Durley Road. Whither she was going she knew not. She paid her bill, refusing to discuss the many extras which Mrs Gowler tried to charge, had her box taken by a porter to the cloak room at the station, dressed her darling baby, said good-bye to Piggy and went downstairs, to shudder as she walked along the passage to the front door. She had not walked far, when an ordinary-looking man came up, who barely lifted his hat. "Can I speak to you, m'am?" "What is it?" "You have just left 9 Durley Road?" "Y-yes." "I'm a detective officer. I'm engaged in watching the house. Have you any complaint to make?" "I don't wish to, thank you." "We know all sorts of things go on, but it's difficult to get evidence." "I don't care to give you any because--because--" "I understand, ma'm," said the man kindly. "I know what trouble is." Mavis was feeling so physically and mentally low with all she had gone through, that the man's kindly words made the tears course down her cheeks. She wiped them away, resettled the baby in her arms, and walked sorrowfully up the road, followed by the sympathetic glance of the plain-clothes detective. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE PIMLICO