"Too fine—too fine. I like Polly better. Never mind. If it's Lavinia, Lavinia it must be. What's your mother? Where does she live?"
"At the coffee house in Bedfordbury."
"Does she keep it?"
"Yes, sir."
"And what do you do?"
"Wait on the customers—sometimes."
"And sometimes you sing in the streets—round the taverns, eh?"
"Only when mother drives me out."
"Oh. She ill treats you, does she? That bruise on your shoulder—was it her work?"
The girl nodded.