"I think we had better be going back now," she said.
"Very well, Nuss. If you please."
But they had had at least a four-mile drive before they drew up at the court again and helped the tired but happy woman to her room once more.
When, with rough tenderness, he had given all the assistance he could, Sister Warwick followed the man on to the little landing. She offered him half-a-crown.
"I know it ought really to be more," she said.
He put back the coin.
"It's only a shilling, Nuss. I only meant it to be a shilling all along. Just let it be a shilling's-worth—now doo ee."[2]
She let him have his way. How could she resist him? And he stumped down the stairs smiling and proud, as if he had received a favour that afternoon. Well, perhaps he had!
There was time for Sister Warwick to pay another and a very different visit before she was due at the hospital for the Sisters' dinner. A visit to another court, but how different! What a contrast!
It is hard to believe that such dear old places are still left standing in the very heart of the great city. Sister Warwick passed through an archway into a flagged square and mounted a flight of steps leading to a quaint, old-fashioned house.