e supreme test was yet to come. 'We don't send everything to the laundry,' I began.
'I 'ope you don't,' she broke in, 'leastways my clothes. The state they send 'em back, 'arf torn to ribbons. A girl never 'as 'er 'and out of 'er pocket buying new things. Besides, I like a bit o' washin'--makes a change, I always say.'
My heart began to beat so loudly with hope that I could hardly hear my own voice as I asked, 'How . . . how soon can you come?'
'To-morrow, if you like,' she answered casually. 'I've 'ad a row with the friend I'm stayin' with and I can't abide living-in with folks I've fallen out with.'
I struggled to reconstruct this sentence and then, remembering what was required of me, I remarked, 'And your references?'
She gave me the address of her last place.
'Are they on the 'phone?' I questioned eagerly. 'If so, I'll settle the thing at once.' It seemed they were. I tottered to the telephone. My call was answered by a woman with a thin, sharp voice.