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"You can't do more, Rosy," said Christian. "Well, we must make our plans, and we must not tell one single human being. We have got to consider how we can live in the very cheapest way, for one hundred and forty shillings will not go far. I suppose they will send the police after us. Isn't it splendid, Rosy? Can you really believe that two young ordinary girls are going to do such a desperate thing?"

"You aint an ordinary girl, Miss Christian."

"Well, perhaps I am not."

"You always was cut out for the part of heroine," continued Rose; "anyone could see that with half an eye. Why, haven't you been William Tell and Joan of Arc and Charlotte Corday for ever so long? And afore that you were fairy queens and fairy princesses, and witches, and such-like. You're cut for the part, miss, and now the time has come."

"It has," said Christian, whose heart was beating fast. "We must think out most of our plans before we go to sleep."

The two girls did think. They were both far too excited to feel sleepy. Their voices kept on murmuring in an even, monotonous sound, which could scarcely penetrate through the closed door of Christian's bedroom.