"with Sal on the booze! Wy d'you mean to tell us you didn't know she wer a reglar wrong un?"
"A wrong one?"
"Yes, farmed kids and that?"
"I don't know what you mean," protested Prudence tearfully.
"Well, y'are a deep 'un, or a softy, blest if I know which, not t've found all about 'er from the start, if yer not lyin', as is most likely."
"But what am I to do?"
"Dunno. You go 'long to the perlice station, an' p'raps the bobbies'll tell you."
"Where is it?" asked Prudence wearily.
Several of the women pointed out the direction, and followed by a little procession of interested but shock-headed observers, who made unfavourable comments on her manners, morals, and appearance, the younger Miss Semaphore took her way, for the first time in her life, to the police station, and made tearful enquiries of a constable at the door.
"Step this way, ma'am," said he.
While the disappointed crowd hung about, and, foreseeing no startling or tragic dénouement, gradually melted away, Prudence was
