There was something in the child’s face that looked familiar to Dodger. It was a resemblance to some one that he had seen, but he could not for the life of him decide who it was.
“How can I ever thank you for your kindness?” said the lady, as she arose from the table. “You don’t know what it is to be famished——”
“Don’t I?” asked Dodger. “I have been hungry more than once, without money enough to buy a meal.”
“You don’t look it,” she said.
“No, for now I have a good place and am earning a good salary.”
“Are you a native of San Francisco?”
“No, madam. I can’t tell you where I was born, for I know little or nothing of my family. I have only been here a short time. I came from New York.”
“So did I,” said the woman, with a sigh. “I wish I were back there again.”
“How came you to be here? Don’t answer if you prefer not to,” Dodger added, hastily.
“I have no objection. My husband deserted me, and left me to shift for myself and support my child.”