Rose and Daisy, like two machines, each put a sheet of paper in their typewriter, found the right ledgers and began to type with great speed and ease.

‘I will leave you now,’ said Mrs Danby majestically.

‘One moment, Mrs Danby,’ said Rose. ‘At what time are we allowed to take our luncheon?’

Mrs Danby longed to tell them that they were to work right through the day but feared that the haughty Miss Summer might report her to Mr Drevey.

‘Luncheon is at one o’ clock until two-thirty,’ she said.

‘Blimey,’ said Daisy when Mrs Danby had left. ‘It’s better than I thought. They do themselves well here. A whole hour and a half for lunch!’

‘This is make work,’ said Rose. ‘There is no need for these ledgers to be typed.’

‘May as well get on with it,’ sighed Daisy. ‘If we’re awfully good, they might give us some real work.’

They worked hard and their shoulders were sore by lunchtime.

‘I need to use the you-know-what,’ said Daisy.

‘There will be one at King William Street underground station. I read about it in the newspaper.’ said Rose. ‘I do not want to see more of Mrs Danby than I need to.’

As both were still wearing the undergarments that ladies wore, they spent a considerable time in the toilets.

For the fashionable lady of the day wore an incredible amount of undergarments. To begin with, there was a garment known as combinations: a kind of vest and pants in one piece, made of fine wool, or a mixture of wool and silk, its legs reaching to the knee. It had a back panel which unbuttoned below the waist. Over this went the corset, usually made of pink coutil, boned and shaped to provide the fashionable hourglass figure. Then came the camisole, a kind of underblouse that buttoned down the front, was gathered at the waist and trimmed with lace round the neck and the diminutive puffed sleeves.

The knickers had lace frills at the knee and they were made from very fine material such as lawn, nainsook or nun’s veiling. Silk stockings were clipped to the corset. Then the large round petticoat was placed in a circle on the floor and stepped into.

The only advantage of all these layers of clothes, thought Daisy, when she and Rose emerged once more into the freezing air, was that they kept you warm. Rose had been pleasingly impressed by her first visit to a public toilet and thought it well worth the charge of one penny. It was spotlessly clean and all shining white tiles and polished brass and the female attendant had been courteous.

Daisy stopped at a tobacco kiosk and asked the girl for a packet of cigarettes and directions to somewhere cheap to eat. She told them there was a Lyons a little way along Cheapside.

‘You’re never going to smoke!’ exclaimed Rose.

‘I feel like it,’ said Daisy stubbornly.