"Isn't your husband at work?"
"He is dead. Poor fellow, he caught cold last Christmas, and was buried in January. God only knows how I have lived since. If it wasn't for the kindness of neighbors, baby and I would have starved. I can ill afford this tuppence, but I can't walk any further."
"Well, look out now," he said, cheerily. "Here's our 'bus."
As the vehicle drew up he caught the brass rail with his left hand, and warded off assailants with the bundle under his right arm.
"Quick," he said to the woman, as soon as the people inside had descended. "Jump in."
She essayed to do so, but was rudely thrust aside by a young man who had paused on the roof to light a cigarette. Philip sprang onto the step and butted the young gentleman in the stomach with his parcel, causing the other to sit down heavily on the stairs. The boy caught the woman's arm with his disengaged hand and pulled her up. He dived in after her.
"You young——" roared the discomfited smoker.
"'Ere! Come orf of it," said the conductor. "Why didn't ye git dahn before? D'ye want a lift?"
Others hustled the protesting one out of the way.
"Confound the East End, I say," he growled, as he crossed to the Mansion House. "What the deuce Lady Louisa Morland wants to keep on sending me to that wretched mews for I can't imagine. Anyway, I can tell her this time that the place is empty, and will be pulled down next week."