Mavis waited in suspense, expecting every minute to be summoned to Orgles’s presence.  She did not regret what she had done, but, as the hours passed and she was not sent for, she more and more feared the consequences of her behaviour.

When she came upstairs from tea, she received a message saying that Mr Orgles wished to see her.  Nerving herself for the interview, she walked up the circular stairs leading to his office, conscious that the eyes of the “young ladies” in the downstair shop were fixed upon her.  As she went into the manager’s room, she purposely left the door open.  She found Orgles writing at a table; at his side were teacups, a teapot, some thinly cut bread and butter and a plate of iced cake.  Mavis watched him as he worked.  As her eyes fell on his stooping shoulders, camel-like face and protruding eyes, her heart was filled with loathing of this bestial old man, who made the satisfaction of his lusts the condition of needy girls’ securing work, all the while careless that he was conducting them along the first stage of a downward journey, which might lead to unsuspected depths of degradation.  She itched to pluck him by the beard, to tell him what she thought of him.

“Miss Keeves!” said Mr Orgles presently.

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t say ‘sir.’”

Mavis started in surprise.  Mr Orgles put down his pen.

“We’re going to have a friendly little chat,” said the man.  “Let me offer you some tea.”

“No, thank you.”

“Pooh! pooh!  Nonsense!”

Mr Orgles poured out the tea; as he did so, he turned his head so that his glance could fall on Mavis.

“Bread and butter, or cake?”

“Neither, thank you.”

“Then drink this tea.”

Mr Orgles brought a cup of tea to where Mavis was standing.  On his way, he closed the door that she had left open.  He placed the tea on a table beside her and took up a piece of bread and butter.

“No, thank you,” said Mavis again.

“What?”

He had taken a large bite out of his piece of bread and butter.  He stared at the girl in open-mouthed surprise.

Mavis was fascinated by the bite of food in his mouth and the tooth-marks in the piece of bread and butter from which it had been torn.

“Now we’ll have a cosy little chat about this most unfortunate business.”

Here Mr Orgles noisily sucked up a mouthful of tea.  Mavis shivered with disgust as she watched him churn the mixture of food and drink in his mouth.

“Won’t you sit down?” he asked presently.

“I prefer to stand.”

“Now then!” Here he joyously rubbed his hands.  “Two months ago, when we had a little talk, you were a foolish, ignorant little girl.  Perhaps we’ve learned sense since then, eh?”

Mavis did not reply.  The man went on: 

“Although a proud little girl, I don’t mind telling you I’ve had my eye on you, that I’ve watched you often and that I’ve great hopes of advancing you in life.  Eh!”