This touched Gracie's heart. She knew what poverty was; she knew what it was to want bread. "The kiddies must starve" fell upon her like a blow.
Of the money which Dick had given to her she had only spent twopence in fares and a halfpenny for a paper, and she had more than half-a-crown left. "The kiddies must starve!" Not if she could help it. The price of bread was marked up in the shop window, "Fivepence per quartern, full weight." She put twopence halfpenny on the counter.
"Please let him have the bread, ma'am."
The man stared at her; the woman's face flushed.
"Take your money back, child," she said. "You shall have the bread, Mr. Mildew: it won't break me."
She weighed the loaf, which was short of two pounds; it needed a piece for make-weight, and, the fount of kindness open, she was not particular to an ounce.
"Thank you, missis," said the man, "I'll pay you the first money I earn, though God knows where I'm to get work. And thank you, little 'un; you don't live on the fat of the land, from the looks of you. I've got a girl about your size and weight at home." He repeated the word with savage emphasis. "Home! There'll be none to-morrow. Rent owing, money owing. Out into the streets we go. That's the law."
"It's got to be obeyed, Mr. Mildew," said the woman. "It's hard lines, I own, but it's got to be obeyed. What does Mr. Lynn say? Won't he give you time?"
"Not an hour, not a minute. He's sucked me dry, and sucked the last drop out of me. Him give time!--with the law on his side! I'd like to grind my heel into his face!"
"You're not the only one," said the woman.