When London Sleeps — page 203: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ears oS “FOR DEAR ‘LIFE'S 84K. > - ey Sa ite 3 > ’ tae »f “ophat’s all Hone then,” rote Mandie, ee was anxious to get away. ‘‘Good-night.’’ “Good-night.” And Queenie held out her hand. ~ But Maudie made no movement to take it. Indeed, she half hid her own in the folds of her gown. “Wait a moment,’’ she said, part in humiliation, part in defiance. ‘‘If you don’t remember me, I do you.’’ ) Queenie looked at her more scrutinizingly than she had done before. “T think I have seen you somewhere,’’ she said. “But where ?”? **T will tell you. It was at Helliwell Mansion.”’ Queenie involuntarily shrank back, as is the first instinct of any good woman when brought into con- tact with one of Maudie de Frere’s class. ““You see!’ said Maudie, with a -bitter lJaugh. ‘*Do you want to shake hands with me now? You don’t! I was right when I told you to wait.”? ‘I don’t wish to be unkind,’’ said Queenie, falter- ingly, ‘‘and if you need help——”’ “Oh, yes,’’? interrupted Maudie, not rudely, and yet with intense feeling. ‘‘You’re full of help, you good people! You show us the sin of our daily life, shut us up in homes, imprison us-in penitentiaries, try to make us godly on bread and water, tracts and long sermons. But there’s not one of you will touch our hands, kiss our cheeks, and by sisterly love ~ make us feel that, fallen as we are, we are still flesh and blood like you who have never known ee ee ag, 'Good- me Leila!” sae at