Part 11 (2/2)

He turned his face so that one of his eyes could look into hers, fiercely as she thought. He shook his head. Mavis uttered a little cry; she rose to go.

”Don't go,” said a voice beside her.

Mr Orgles was standing quite near.

”Do you badly want a place?”

”Very badly.”

”H'm!”

His big nostrils were dilating more than ever; he turned his head so that one of his eyes again looked into hers.

”Something might be got you,” continued the man.

”It all depends on influence.”

Mavis looked up quickly.

”I was wondering if you'd like me to do my best for you?”

”Oh, of course I would.”

”Excuse me,” said Mr Orgles, as he took what seemed to be a tiny piece of fluff from the skirt of her coat. ”You must have got it coming upstairs.”

”Do you think you would speak for me?” Mavis found words to ask.

Mr Orgles's eyes again rested on Mavis, as he said:

”It depends on you.”

”On me?”

”You say you have never been out in the world before?”

”Not really in the world.”

”I am sorry.”

”Sorry!” echoed Mavis.

”Because you haven't lived; you don't know what life can be--is,” cried Mr Orgles, who now waved his arms and moved jerkily about the girl.

She looked at him in astonishment.

”Excuse me; a further bit of fluff,” said Mr Orgles.

This time he placed his hand upon the breast of her coat and seemed in no hurry to remove it.

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