“Excuse me,” remarked the dark girl suddenly, as she again craned out of the window.

“Certainly,” said Mavis dryly, as she wondered what had happened to the boxes she had had sent on earlier in the day.

“No sign of him yet.  I’m afraid he’s had a breakdown,” exclaimed the girl, after looking down the street for some time, a remark to which Mavis paid no attention.  The girl went on: 

“You were speaking of the supper ‘Dawes’’ supply.  I couldn’t eat it myself.  I simply lode their food.”

“What?” asked Mavis, whose ears had caught the mispronunciation.

“Yes, I simply lode the food they give for supper, the same as Miss Potter and Miss Allen, the other young ladies who sleep in this room.  Indeed, we can only eat restaurant food in the evenings.”

“What’s wrong with the supper here?” asked Mavis, nervously thinking of her hearty appetite and the few shillings that remained after settling up with Mrs Ellis.

“Taste and try:  you’ve only to go right to the bottom of the ’ouse.  Excuse me.”

Here the swarthy young woman leaned so far out of the window that Mavis feared she would lose her balance and fall into the street.  Then Mavis heard footsteps and the clatter of a pail in the passage.  The door opened, and the misshapen person who had been rude to her when she was waiting downstairs appeared.

“Here she is,” called this person, at which two men entered with Mavis’s trunks; these they dumped on the floor.

“Thank you,” said Mavis.

“Heavy work, miss,” remarked one of the men.

“Be off with you,” cried the servant.

“Now then, beauty,” laughed the other of the men.

“Be off with you; none of your cadging here.”

“But they’re heavy, and if—­” began Mavis.

“It’s what they’re paid for.  Be off with you,” snorted the servant.

“There he is!” cried the girl who had been leaning out of the window.

“Motor and all?” asked Mavis.

“Eh!  Oh, he hasn’t brought the motor; we’ll ’ave to take a ’an’som.  Good-bye for the present.  My name’s Impett—­Rose Impett.”

“Mine’s Keeves,” said Mavis, thinking she may as well be agreeable to those she had to live with.  She then went to her boxes and saw that the odd-looking servant had uncorded them.

“Thank you,” said Mavis.

“I dessay it’s more than you deserve,” remarked the servant.

“I daresay,” assented Mavis.

“Let’s have a look at you.”

“What?”

“You needn’t be jealous of me; let’s have a look.”

The servant urged Mavis to stand by the flaring gas, where she looked her up and down, Mavis thought maliciously.

“H’m!  Wonder how long it’ll be before I have to pray for you?”

“Eh!”

“Same as I has to for the others.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Look on the bed; see ’ow they leave their clothes, and such clothes.  That’s what their souls is like.”