“How do you account for that?”
“Well, you see, marm, it’s been so wet, and there aint been many young gentlemen about, that’s the reason. Young gentlemen are my best customers, and if I don’t sell anything to-night, I’m sure I don’t know what I shall do.”
“Are you so badly off, then?”
“I haven’t had anything to eat the whole of the day.”
“I am very sorry for you—extremely sorry.”
“I don’t so much mind going without my grub, but unless I get some money I shall have to sleep in one of those dreadful lodging-houses. My regular place is Whitechapel, but I am too tired to walk there. I generally give up trading long afore this, but I’ve gone on late to-night in the hope of selling a nest or some eggs.”
“Ah! all this is very sad; I’m quite troubled to think that you should be so unfortunate,” murmured the lady.
The other lady had gone a pace or two from them. She was anxiously looking down the Strand in the direction of the City.
“But how will you get on in the winter time of the year?”
“Winter!” exclaimed Alf; “I never thought of that. I don’t know what I shall do then. Beg or starve, I suppose.”