After Maggy had exchanged a word or two with those whom she knew she took very little notice of the people about her. She stood apart, humming a tune, and every now and again her feet broke into a subdued dance step. But this state of abstraction did not last long. That she was a creature of impulse showed in an abrupt change from it to close attention of what was going on around her. Her fine eyes went alertly over those present and came to rest on a girl of about her own age whose quiet manner and dress of severe black singled her out from the rest. She was tall and slight, very much in the style of the women in Shepperson’s drawings. Her small features and graceful figure gave her a distinguished appearance. She looked what she was, a lady, and a stranger to her surroundings. She held a roll of music and glanced nervously about her until she became aware of Maggy’s smiling regard. It seemed to encourage her. She returned the smile and advanced. "At which end will they begin?" she asked nervously, making it clear that she was an amateur. "Anywhere," replied Maggy with friendly cheerfulness. "You’re not a pro.?" "No." "I thought not. I shouldn’t let on if I were you. Managers fight shy of beginners. First thing they’ll ask you at the table is what experience you’ve had. Haven’t you been on the stage at all before?" "No, I’ve never appeared in public. I’m new to it all." "Been looking for a shop—an engagement—long?" "For five weeks. Ever since I came to London." The girl in black could not hide the note of disappointment that came into her voice. Maggy gave her an encouraging tap on the arm. "Five weeks!" she scoffed. "That’s nothing. Lots of us are out for months. You’ll know that if you ever hit real bad luck." "I can’t wait months." "Hard up?" Maggy asked with quick understanding. "I shall be soon." "Same here. Tell me, where are you living? You’re different to the crowd. I like you." The girl in black hesitated and got a little red. "I’m not living anywhere at present," she confessed. "I was in a boarding-house until to-day. I had to leave. I shall have to find rooms before night. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling me where to look?" They had moved away from those nearest them. Each felt attracted to the other without knowing why. "Did they keep your box?" "No. Why should they?" "I thought you meant you couldn’t pay." "No, it wasn’t that. But I can’t go back. A man came into my room last night—one of the men staying there. I rang the bell and called the landlady. I don’t understand why, but she blamed me and was very offensive. I didn’t go to bed again. I sat up, waiting for the morning." "The beast!"