“What made me think first how things might be was seeing a girl in the second place I worked at.  She looked so like Mary, young and fresh and pretty and lively, always joking and laughing.  She was very shabby and made-over when I saw her first, with darned gloves and stitched-up boots down at heel and bits of ribbon that she kept changing to bring the best side up.  Then she got a new dress all at once and new boots and gloves and hat and seemed to have money to spend and the girls began to pass remarks about her when she wasn’t bearing and sometimes to her face when they had words with her.  I didn’t believe anything bad at first but I knew she wasn’t getting any more pay and then, all at once, I recollected being behind her one night when we came out of the shop and seeing a young fellow waiting in a door-way near.  He was a good-looking young fellow, well-dressed and well to do, and as she passed with some other girls he dropped his stick out in front of her and spoke to her.  She laughed and ran back to the shop when we’d gone on a little further and spoke to him for a second or two as she passed him.  It was after that she was well dressed and I saw her out with him once or twice and—­and—­I began to think of Mary.  You see, I knew how hard the life was and how wearying it is to have to slave and half-starve all the time, and then Mary wanted money so to send home to help them.  And when the girls talked at work they spoke of lots of things we never heard of in the bush and gradually I got to know what made me sick at heart.

“I was nearly mad when I thought of that about Mary, my sister Mary who was so good and so kind.  I hated myself for dreaming of such a thing but it grew and grew on me and at last I couldn’t rest till I found out.  I didn’t think it was so but it began to seem just possible, a wild possibility that I must satisfy to myself, the more I couldn’t find her.  I somehow felt she was in Brisbane somewhere and I learnt how easily one slips down to the bottom when one starts slipping and has no friends.  So I used to go on Queen Street at night and look for her there.  But I never saw her.  I wanted to ask about her but I couldn’t bear to.  I thought of asking the Salvation Army people but when I went one night I couldn’t.

“At last one night when we’d been working late at the shop, till eleven, as we did very often in busy times without getting any overtime pay though they turned us off as they pleased when work got slack, I saw a girl coming that I thought I’d ask.  She was painted up and powdered and had flaring clothes but she looked kind.  It was a quiet street where I met her and before I had time to change my mind she got to me and I stopped and asked her.  I told her I’d lost my sister and did she know anything of her.  She didn’t laugh at me or say anything rude but talked nice and said she didn’t think so and I mustn’t think about that but if I liked she’d find out.  I told her the name but she said that wasn’t any good