It was not till she saw him actually standing there before her with hishair rumpled and a large smut on the tip of his nose, that Sally reallyunderstood how profoundly troubled she had been about this young man,and how vivid had been that vision of him bobbing about on the waters ofthe Thames, a cold and unappreciated corpse. She was a girl of keenimagination, and she had allowed her imagination to riot unchecked.

　　Astonishment, therefore, at the extraordinary fact of his being therewas for the moment thrust aside by relief. Never before in her life hadshe experienced such an overwhelming rush of exhilaration. She flungherself into a chair and burst into a screech of laughter which even toher own ears sounded strange. It struck Ginger as hysterical.

　　"I say, you know!" said Ginger, as the merriment showed no signs ofabating. Ginger was concerned. Nasty shock for a girl, finding blightersunder her bed.

　　Sally sat up, gurgling, and wiped her eyes.

　　"Oh, I am glad to see you," she gasped.

　　"No, really?" said Ginger, gratified. "That's fine." It occurred to himthat some sort of apology would be a graceful act. "I say, you know,awfully sorry. About barging in here, I mean. Never dreamed it was yourroom. Unoccupied, I thought.""Don't mention it. I ought not to have disturbed you. You were havinga nice sleep, of course. Do you always sleep on the floor?""It was like this...""Of course, if you're wearing it for ornament, as a sort ofbeauty-spot," said Sally, "all right. But in case you don't know, you'vea smut on your nose.""Oh, my aunt! Not really?""Now would I deceive you on an important point like that?""Do you mind if I have a look in the glass?""Certainly, if you can stand it."Ginger moved hurriedly to the dressing-table.

　　"You're perfectly right," he announced, applying his handkerchief.

　　"I thought I was. I'm very quick at noticing things.""My hair's a bit rumpled, too.""Very much so.""You take my tis," said Ginger, earnestly, "and never lie about underbeds. There's nothing in it.""That reminds me. You won't be offended if I asked you something?""No, no. Go ahead.""It's rather an impertinent question. You may resent it.""No, no.""Well, then, what were you doing under my bed?""Oh, under your bed?""Yes. Under my bed. This. It's a bed, you know. Mine. My bed. Youwere under it. Why? Or putting it another way, why were you under mybed?""I was hiding.""Playing hide-and-seek? That explains it.""Mrs. What's-her-name--Beecher--Meecher--was after me.

　　Sally shook her head disapprovingly.

　　"You mustn't encourage Mrs. Meecher in these childish pastimes. Itunsettles her."Ginger passed an agitated hand over his forehead.

　　"It's like this...""I hate to keep criticizing your appearance," said Sally, "andpersonally I like it; but, when you clutched your brow just then, youput about a pound of dust on it. Your hands are probably grubby."Ginger inspected them.

　　"They are!""Why not make a really good job of it and have a wash?""Do you mind?""I'd prefer it.""Thanks awfully. I mean to say it's your basin, you know, and all that.

　　What I mean is, seem to be making myself pretty well at home.""Oh, no.""Touching the matter of soap...""Use mine. We Americans are famous for our hospitality.""Thanks awfully.""The towel is on your right.""Thanks awfully.""And I've a clothes brush in my bag.""Thanks awfully."Splashing followed like a sea-lion taking a dip. "Now, then," saidSally, "why were you hiding from Mrs. Meecher?"A careworn, almost hunted look came into Ginger's face. "I say, youknow, that woman is rather by way of being one of the lads, what! Scaresme! Word was brought that she was on the prowl, so it seemed to me ajudicious move to take cover till she sort of blew over. If she'd foundme, she'd have made me take that dog of hers for a walk.""Toto?""Toto. You know," said Ginger, with a strong sense of injury, "no dog'sgot a right to be a dog like that. I don't suppose there's anyone keeneron dogs than I am, but a thing like a woolly rat." He shudderedslightly. "Well, one hates to be seen about with it in the publicstreets.""Why couldn't you have refused in a firm but gentlemanly manner to takeToto out?""Ah! There you rather touch the spot. You see, the fact of the matteris, I'm a bit behind with the rent, and that makes it rather hard totake what you might call a firm stand.""But how can you be behind with the rent? I only left here the Saturdaybefore last and you weren't in the place then. You can't have been heremore than a week.""I've been here just a week. That's the week I'm behind with.""But why? You were a millionaire when I left you at Roville.""Well, the fact of the matter is, I went back to the tables that nightand lost a goodish bit of what I'd won. And, somehow or another, when Igot to America, the stuff seemed to slip away.""What made you come to America at all?" said Sally, asking the questionwhich, she felt, any sensible person would have asked at the opening ofthe conversation.

　　One of his familiar blushes raced over Ginger's face. "Oh, I thought Iwould. Land of opportunity, you know.""Have you managed to find any of the opportunities yet?""Well, I have got a job of sorts, I'm a waiter at a rummy little placeon Second Avenue. The salary isn't big, but I'd have wangled enough outof it to pay last week's rent, only they docked me a goodish bit forbreaking plates and what not. The fact is, I'm making rather a hash ofit.""Oh, Ginger! You oughtn't to be a waiter!""That's what the boss seems to think.""I mean, you ought to be doing something ever so much better.""But what? You've no notion how well all these blighters here seem to beable to get along without my help. I've tramped all over the place,offering my services, but they all say they'll try to carry on as theyare."Sally reflected.

　　"I know!""What?""I'll make Fillmore give you a job. I wonder I didn't think of itbefore.""Fillmore?""My brother. Yes, he'll be able to use you.""What as?"Sally considered.

　　"As a--as a--oh, as his right-hand man.""Does he want a right-hand man?""Sure to. He's a young fellow trying to get along. Sure to want aright-hand man.""'M yes," said Ginger reflectively. "Of course, I've never been aright-hand man, you know.""Oh, you'd pick it up. I'll take you round to him now. He's staying atthe Astor.""There's just one thing," said Ginger.

　　"What's that?""I might make a hash of it.""Heavens, Ginger! There must be something in this world that youwouldn't make a hash of. Don't stand arguing any longer............