I don't want to know any more." At this Lavinia laughed outright.

Her clothes were of good quality and of fashionable cut--the Duchess of Queensberry's maid had seen to that--her manner and air were those of a lady of quality--thanks to Miss Pinwell--but apart from these externals what was she?
A coffee shop waitress--a strolling singer--a waif and stray whose mother would not break her heart if she got her living on the streets! When she thought of the bitter truth the laughing face was clouded.
"I wish I were a lady--a rich one, I mean--for your sake," said she softly.

"You look so ill.

You ought to have a doctor." "I ought to have a good many things, I daresay, that I haven't got.

I have to do without." Her eyes drooped.