She said: "Why, I especially stated that if she wanted someone who knew shorthand, I should be no use!" He said: "So you did! I meant to say, your type-writing was your recommendation." "Mr. Furnival," she exclaimed, "I wrote, 'I do not know shorthand, and I am not a typist'! You must be confusing me with someone else. Perhaps you have answered another application as well?" Perhaps he had. "You're my first experience of an applicant for a secretaryship who hasn't learnt shorthand or type-writing," he said in an injured tone. "Of course, if you don't know either, you'd be no good at all--not a bit." "Then," she said, "why did you ask me to send you half a crown?" Before he could spare time to enlighten her as to his reason for this line of action, they were interrupted by an urchin who deposited an armful of letters on the table. The gentleman seemed pleased to see them, and she came away wondering how many of the women who Messrs. Furnival "judged would suit their client" enclosed postal-orders to pay the "fee." Quite ineffectually she visited some legitimate agencies, and once she walked to Battersea in time to learn that the berth that was the object of her journey had just been filled. Even when one walks to Battersea, and dines for twopence, however, the staying-powers of two-and-ninepence are very limited; and the dawning of the dreaded date for the bill found her capital exhausted. Among her scanty possessions, the only article that she could suggest converting into money was a silver watch that she wore attached to a guard. It had belonged to her as a girl; she had worn it as a nurse; it had travelled with her on tour during her life with Carew. What a pawnbroker would lend her on it she did not know, but she supposed a sovereign. Had she been better off, she would have supposed two sovereigns, for she was as ignorant of its value as of the method of pledging it; but being destitute, a pound looked to her a very substantial amount. She made her way heavily into the street. She felt that her errand was printed on her face, and when she reached and paused beneath the sign of the three balls, all the passers-by seemed to be watching her. The window offered a pretext for hesitation. She stood inspecting the collection behind the glass; perhaps anyone who saw her go in might imagine it was with the intention of buying something! She was nerving herself to the necessary pitch when, giving a final glance over her shoulder, she saw a bystander looking at her steadily. Her courage took flight, and she sauntered on, deciding to explore for a shop in a more secluded position.