"Tuppence a day in summer—fourpence in winter. Summer a gal can sleep anywhere—there's some prime places in the Borough Market, and lots o' railway arches, Dockhead way; but it nips you awful hard when the frost's on."
"Well—here's sixpence to set up in business with, Mattie—and as long as you can show me an honest front, and can come here every Saturday night and say, 'I've been honest all the week,' why, I'll stand the same amount."
Mattie's eyes sparkled at this rise in life.
"I'll borrow a basket, and buy some inguns to-morrow. P'raps you buy inguns sometimes, and old—Mr. Wesden down-stairs, too. Yes, sir, it's the connexion that budges one up!" she said, with the gravity of an old woman.
"I see. I'll speak to Mr. Wesden about his custom, Mattie. You can go now."
"Thankee, sir."
She rose to her feet, went a few steps down-stairs, paused, and looked back.
"What is it, Mattie?"
"I hope the young gen'leman isn't a fretting much about his broach."
"Here, young gentleman," called the father, "do you hear that?"