* * * * *
At the entrance to the Tube he stopped. To leave the locality he must
have money. He felt in his pockets. Slowly, one by one, he pulled forth
his little valuables. His knife ... his revolver ... the magistrate's
gold watch ... He inspected them sadly. They must all go.
He went into a pawnbroker's shop at the corner of the street. A few
moments later, with money in his pockets, he dived into the Tube.
THE BEST SAUCE
Eve Hendrie sat up in bed. For two hours she had been trying to get to
sleep, but without success. Never in her life had she felt more
wakeful.
There were two reasons for this. Her mind was disturbed, and she was
very hungry. Neither sensation was novel to her. Since first she had
become paid companion to Mrs. Rastall-Retford there had hardly been a
moment when she had not been hungry. Some time before Mrs.
Rastall-Retford's doctor had recommended to that lady a Spartan diet,
and in this Eve, as companion, had unwillingly to share. It was not
pleasant for either of them, but at least Mrs. Rastall-Retford had the
knowledge that she had earned it by years of honest self-indulgence.
Eve had not that consolation.
Meagre fare, moreover, had the effect of accentuating Mrs.
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