‘Huh! Fat lot of good that would do,’ Miss Fox snorted, folding her hands neatly at her waist. ‘Ruby is off with the fairies most of the time nowadays. Why, only last night I threatened to tip every drop of wine I could get my hands on down the sink. If truth be told, she wants Kitty to work and doesn’t care about the toll it’s taking on the girl. It’s Kitty’s earnings that are keeping this house going at the moment.’

Maggie had suspected that Kitty wasn’t being paid a fraction of what she earned and now Miss Fox was confirming it. But when Maggie tried to broach the subject with Kitty she got her head bitten off, for Kitty wouldn’t have a wrong word said about Ruby.

‘Ah well, don’t you go fretting over it,’ Miss Fox said now. ‘Just make sure that she rests when she can.’

‘That’s easier said than done,’ Maggie sighed ruefully. ‘When she isn’t singing on stage she’s off to that damn photographer’s all the time and she won’t let me go with her.’ The two women stared at each other for a moment, both with the same thoughts, then without another word they went their separate ways. Maggie herself was gravely concerned. The little bottle and the tiny sponges that she had found some weeks ago in Kitty’s bag were now being used, which could only mean one thing. But what if they didn’t work and Kitty were to find herself with child? Would her wonderful photographer stand by her then and do the honourable thing? Huh! Maggie very much doubted it. The week before, she had visited the market early one morning while Kitty was still in bed and she had seen Richard Fitzherbert strolling along bold as brass with a very pretty blue-eyed blonde hanging off his arm. Fearful of being spotted, Maggie had darted into a shop doorway until they were out of sight. From the way the girl had been gazing adoringly up at him, it had been very obvious that they were more than friends. Richard Fitzherbert was playing Kitty like a fiddle and stringing her along.

Her dilemma now was, should she tell Kitty what she had seen? After giving it much thought Maggie had decided against it, for she had a feeling that Kitty would just fly into a rage and refuse to believe her. It hurt her, though, to think that her friend was being used. But Kitty was almost eighteen years old now and Maggie supposed that she would have to learn by her own mistakes. She could only pray that, in time, Kitty would see Richard for what he was.

Only the day before, she had dared to ask outright: ‘Has he ever paid you personally for any of the modelling you’ve done for him?’ and was put firmly in her place.

‘He and Ruby have an arrangement. He pays her my fee then she pays me.’ Maggie had clamped her mouth shut and said no more.