"Wantta go t' bed now?" the other inquired, a little kinder than she had spoken before.
"I feel sleepy," said Mildred, and looked it.
"All right," said the other, rising with much difficulty. "Ah, gal, that's rheumatiz. Bad. When you gits lak dis, life don't hold much fo' you."
Mildred tried to look sympathetic as she followed her, and murmured something inaudible.
They had entered a room now that corresponded with the remainder of the house, except that the ceiling seemed to be lower, and the room was a bit cleaner. A small fireplace was in one side of the wall, and the bed stood in an opposite corner. Two chairs, a table, a bureau, a wash stand and a pitcher with a clean towel spread over it, made up the meagre furnishings. A rag carpet covered the floor.
"I don't fu'nish fiah," said the other, when she saw Mildred's eyes rest for a moment upon the fireplace. If there were a fire, she now felt she would rest better.
"I should like to purchase some fuel of you to make a fire, if it is possible," she said.
"I'll sell you a nickel's wo'th."
"Very well. Bring it in." When the other was gone, she took fifty cents in change from her purse. She displayed this that the other might see and feel that she possessed little. A few minutes later, she was alone with a fire cracking in the grate, that soon made the room quite comfortable.
She retired when the room had become warm. The heat, in contrast with the air she had just come out of, made her yawn. So, after barring the door securely, she retired, and was soon fast asleep.