She went over to Faith and patted her shrinking shoulder.
"Cheer up, little 'un," she said, resorting to her usual slangy manner of speech, which she had dropped somewhat since she had seen so much of the Beggar Man. "It's a long lane that has no turning, you know. And it's lucky for you all that you've got a husband. If you think you could earn enough to keep yourself and those twins, bless 'em, you're mistaken. Why, they'd eat your week's wages in a couple of days and think nothing of it."
"I thought you were my friend," said Faith again helplessly. "And here you are driving me back to him. I should never have married him if I'd known what I know now. I'd rather have starved...."
"You've never tried starving," was Peg's unsympathetic response. "And you're talking silly. He's all right, as far as you know him, anyway, and what he does in business is neither here nor there, as you might say."
She considered Faith with meditative eyes; then suddenly she broke out: "Here! Will you go and live with him if he lets me come, too?"
Faith looked up with a faintly dawning hope, which faded quickly.
"He'd never let you," she said. "He wouldn't even have the twins."
"He was quite right there," Peg declared. "They'd be a nuisance. But I'm different. I could see to things for you and lend a hand in the house, too, if you like. I've a great mind to ask him—what do you say?"