"Thank you, Mr. Torchy," says she, doin' a little dancin'-school duck. "And if you don't mind, I'd like to--to stay here for a minute or two while I think what I 'd best---- O-o-o-oh!" She sort of moans out this last panicky and shrinks against the wall. "Well, what's the trouble now?" says I. "That's the one!" she whispers husky. "The--the man in the blue cap--the one who told me about the work papers. He said I was to clear out too." And by followin' her scared glances I discovers this low-brow store sleuth scowlin' ugly at her. "Pooh!" says I. "Only one of them cheap flat-foots. Don't mind him. You're waitin' with me, you know. Here!" And I reaches down a hand to her. Maybe it wa'n't some grateful look Helma flashes up as she slips her slim, cold little fingers into mine and snuggles up like a lost kitten. The store sleuth he stares puzzled for a second; but the near-English top coat must have impressed him, for he goes sneakin' back down the main aisle. So here I am, with this freaky little stray under my wing, when Vee comes sailin' out, all trim and classy in her silver fox furs, with a cute little hat to match, and takes in the picture. Maybe you can guess too, how the average young queen in her set would have curled her lip at sight of that faded cape and oversized cap. But not Vee! She just indulges in a flickery smile, then straightens her face out and remarks: "Well, Torchy, I haven't had the pleasure, have I?" Say, she's a real sport, Vee is, take it from me! "Guess not," says I. "This is Helma, late of London, just now at large. It's a case of one's havin' mislaid one's home." "Oh!" says Vee, a little doubtful. "And one's parents too?" "Painful subject," says I, shakin' my head warnin'. But Helma ain't the kind to gloss things over. She speaks right out. "If you please, Miss," says she, "I've no mother, and Daddums has been taken up--the bobbies, you know. And I fancy the money he left for my board must have been all used; for I heard the landlady say I'd have to go to a home. So before daylight this morning I slipped out the front door. I'm not going back, either. I--I'm looking for work." "For work!" says Vee, starin' first at me and then at Helma. "You absurd little thing! Why, how old are you?" "I was twelve last month, Miss," says Helma, bobbin' polite. "And you've been out since daylight?" demands Vee. "Where did you have breakfast and luncheon?" "I--I didn't have them at all, Miss," admits Helma. Vee presses her lips together sudden and then shoots a knowin' look at me. "There!" says she. "That reminds me. I haven't had tea, either. Well, Torchy?" "My blow," says I. "I was just goin' to mention it. There's a joint somewhere near, ain't there?" "Top floor," says Vee. "Come, Helma, you'll go with us, won't you?"