“Well, what are we going to have?” he asked. It was surprising how cheerful he felt. “And what about that wonderful cat of yours? By the way, hasn’t it got a name?”

She smiled faintly.

“I call him Charlie,” she said.

“Charlie!” Micky’s eyes twinkled. “Well, it’s original, anyway,” he said with a chuckle. “And Charlie must have some milk, I suppose. I say, he’s a bit thin, isn’t he?” he asked dubiously.

She had taken off the shawl which had been wrapped about it, and the poor animal sat on her lap blinking in the light, a forlorn enough specimen, with a long tail and fierce eyes.

The girl stroked its head.

“He’s been half starved,” she said. “You’d be thin if you hadn’t had any more to eat than he’s had.”

“I’m sure I should,” said Micky humbly. He thought guiltily of the waste which he knew went on in his own establishment; it was odd that it had never struck him before that there must be many people in the world, not to mention cats, who would be glad enough of the waste from his table.

He picked up the menu to hide his discomfort. When the waiter came he ordered the best dinner the restaurant served. He was conscious that the girl was watching him anxiously. When the waiter had gone, she said, “I can’t afford to have a dinner like that.”

10

Micky flushed crimson.

“I thought you were dining with me,” he stammered. “I––I hope you will––I shall be only too honoured....”

Her grey eyes met his anxiously.

“I’ve never done a thing like this before,” she said in distress. “I don’t know what you are thinking of me ... but ... well, I suppose I was just desperate....” She broke off biting her lip, then she rushed on again. “I don’t suppose you’ll ever see me any more, so it doesn’t really matter much, but....”

“I hope to see you again, many times,” said Micky, with an earnestness that surprised himself.

She looked away, and her face hardened.

“I suppose men are all the same,” she said, after a moment. “However....” she shrugged her shoulders with a sort 

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