The latter Sally brought forward.
"I was to ask you to smoke, and whether you'd like a cup of coffee with it ?" she asked, with the curious _naivete_ which marked her mode of speech.
"The kettle's boiling on the side," she added, seeing that Waymark hesitated.

"I can make it in a minute." "In that case, I will." "You don't mind me having one as well ?" "Of course not." "Shall I talk, or shall I keep quiet?
I'm not a servant here, you know," she added, with an amusing desire to make her position clear.
"Ida and me's friends, and she'd do just as much for I." "Talk by all means," said Waymark, smiling, as he lit his cigar.

The result was that, in a quarter of an hour Sally had related her whole history.

As Ida had said, she came from Weymouth, where her father was a fisherman, and owner of bum-boats.

Her mother kept a laundry, and the family had all lived together in easy circumstances.