"Yes," she whispered.
"Humph!" grunted the old man, and solemnly presented the organ grinder with a halfpenny.
Ruby O'Connor's voice rang out down the street.
"Come back directly, you limb!" she called. Jenny looked irresolute, but presently decided to obey.
That same evening the old man tapped at the kitchen door.
"Come in," said Mrs. Raeburn. "Is that you, Mr. Vergoe? Something gone wrong with your gas again? I do wish Charlie would remember to mend it."
"No, there's nothing the matter with the gas," explained the lodger. (For Mr. Vergoe was the lodger of Number Seventeen.) "Only I think that child of yours'll make a dancer some day."
"Make a what?" said the mother.
"A dancer. I was watching her this morning. Wonderful notion of time. You ought to have her trained, so to speak."
"My good gracious, whatever for?"