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'They're the most awful wretches, I assure you—the lot all about there.'
'Then why do you want to stay among them?'
'My dear man, just because they are. It makes me hate them so.'
'Hate them? I thought you liked them.'
'Don't be stupid. What I "like" is just to loathe them. You wouldn't believe what passes before my eyes.'
'Then why have you never told me? You didn't mention anything before I left.'
'Oh, I hadn't got into it then. It's the sort of thing yon don't believe at first; you have to look round you a bit and then you understand. You work into it more and more. Besides,' the girl went on, 'this is the time of the year when the worst lot come up. They're simply packed together in those smart streets. Talk of the numbers of the poor! What I can vouch for is the numbers of the rich! There are new ones every day, and they seem to get richer and richer. Oh, they do come up!' she cried, imitating, for
