“Mornin’,” said Sam.
Barney scowled, and blew a cloud of tobacco at him.
“Keb, sir?” said Sam, mounting to his perch.
Barney growled, and then spat.
“Run yer up to town in no time. Cheap trains to S’burban ’andicap,” said Sam, grinning.
But Barney turned his back as the cab drove off, and asked his wife—“What, them people wanted with kebs now?”
Mrs Lane admitted her visitor, and, in a hesitating way, asked her upstairs, where her daughter, looking very pale, was seated by the window, working for very life at the hard, blue cloth garments upon which they were engaged.
The girl rose as Mrs Jenkles entered, and bent towards her, flushing slightly beneath the scrutinising gaze to which she was subjected.
At the same time, Mrs Jenkles made a short bob, and then another to Mrs Lane, who placed a chair for her, which she declined to take.
“It was my husband, ma’am,” said Mrs Jenkles, “who came up to you the other day.”