V.


Do you remember Lady Patronesses' Day at the Cruelty, Mag?
Remember how the place smelt of cleaning ammonia on the bare
floors? Remember the black dresses we all wore, and the white
aprons with the little bibs, and the oily sweetness of the
matron, and how our faces shone and tingled from the soap and the
rubbing? Remember it all?

Well, who'd 'a' thought then that Nance Olden ever would make use
of it--on the level, too!

Drop the Cruelty, and tell you about the stage? Why, it's bare
boards back there, bare as the Cruelty, but oh, there's something
that you don't see, but you feel it--something magic that makes
you want to pinch yourself to be sure you're awake. I go round
there just doped with it; my face, if you could see it, must look
like Molly's kid's when she is telling him fairy stories.

I love it, Mag! I love it!

And what do I do? That's what I was trying to tell you about the
Cruelty for. It's in a little act that was made for Lady Gray,
that there are four Charity girls on the stage, and I'm one of
'em.

Lady Gray? Why, Mag, how can you ever hope to get on if you don't
know who's who? How can you expect me to associate with you if