ARABIAN NIGHTS FOR TURGIS 367

"I should think you don't, my lad!" cried Turgis,
whose finances were now in a desperate state. The
pictures last night had left him with three and three-
pence; the bus going home had cost him twopence;
lunch had been ninepence (it cost him nothing travel-
ling to the office, because he had a pass on the Under-
ground); and now, after paying out this eightpence, he
would be left with one and eight. On that one and eight,
he would have to travel to the Colladium and get home
afterwards, and then exist all the next day, Friday, And
he had only two cigarettes left. If Lena wanted anything
in the Colladium—and he could imagine her asking for
chocolates and cigarettes and ices—he was in a hole.

He got away at five minutes past six, after having a
very thorough wash-and-brush-up in the little office
lavatory, hurled himself into the flood of west-bound
travellers, and arrived, breathless and triumphant, under
the red glare of the Colladium entrance exactly on time.
He had ten minutes in which to cool off before Miss
Golspie appeared, wearing a handsome coat with a huge
fur collar and cuffs and looking so rich and beautiful
that he was almost too shy to talk to her. Their seats
were down at the front—Turgis had never sat in such
seats before—and it would all have been perfect if it had
not been for two little incidents. The first occurred
when Lena, during the second turn, a silent juggling
affair, announced that she would like some choco-
lates.

"Can you get hold of that girl there/' she said. "She
always has some nice boxes."

Nice boxes! "How much are they?" he asked her,
miserably.

"Well, you are a mean pig! How much are they? I