valleria Rusticana and began putting away its instruments in receptacles of green baize. Mrs. Willis thought perhaps they'd all better be going to bed, so Bessie paid the bill for everything and they set out slowly, for Bessie found it difficult to move very fast. As they walked she said she had no children (which was quite true) and so was very fond of dogs. The Willises must see her other poodle, Minnie. Minnie was at home because her chest was weak and Bessie didn't think the night air at the seaside was good for her.
Queer, said Mrs. Willis, they hadn't any children either, although they'd prayed for them. But she managed to fill in her time in church work. That helped a great deal and it was sociable. Did Mrs. Winnery go to any particular church?
Bessie said no, that she wasn't much of a one for church. (Indeed, she had never seen the inside of a church.) She'd come to Bloomsbury a stranger and she'd never yet found her way about.
Mrs. Willis said she must come to their chapel. She was sure that she'd feel at home there, and Bessie said they must both come and have Sunday dinner with her. At the end of the pier Bessie's hired victoria was waiting and she drove them home to their shabby lodgings. They parted the best of friends.
"We might meet tomorrow," suggested Bessie.
"That would be fine," said Mrs. Willis.
"About ten-thirty at the end of the pier," said Bessie. She waved back to them gaily as she drove off to the splendor of her own suite at the George and Crown.
