It was a queer place they finally hit upon. It was up a side street, which was poorly lighted, and where the houses were all shabby and small. On the steps of one of them a tired-looking woman was sitting, with a pale, old-faced boy beside her. Robin stopped before her.
“Have you a room where my sister could sleep, and I could have a mattress on the floor, or lie down on anything?” he said. “We can’t afford to go anywhere where it will cost more than fifty cents each.”
The woman looked at them indifferently. She was evidently very much worn out with her day’s work, and discouraged by things generally.
“I haven’t anything worth more than fifty cents, goodness knows,” she answered. “You must be short of money to come here. I’ve never thought of having roomers.”
“We’re poor,” said Robin, “and we know we can’t have anything but a poor room. If we can lie down, we are so tired we shall go to sleep anywhere. We’ve been at the Fair all day.”
The pale little old-faced boy leaned forward, resting his arm on his mother’s knee. They saw that he was a very poor little fellow, indeed, with a hunch back.
“Mother,” he said, “let ’em stay; I’ll sleep on the floor.”
The woman gave a dreary half laugh, and got up from the step. “He’s crazy about the Fair,” she said. “We hain’t no money to spend on Fairs, and he’s most wild about it. You can stay here to-night, if you want to.”
She made a sign to them to follow her. The hunchback boy rose too, and went into the dark passage after them. He seemed to regard them with a kind of hunger in his look.
They went up the narrow, steep staircase. It was only lighted by a dim gleam from a room below, whose door was open. The balustrades were rickety, and some of them were broken out. It was a forlorn enough place. The hunchback boy came up the steps, awkwardly, behind them. It was as if he wanted to see what would happen.