She stared at him for a considerable time without reply. Her eyes were like gimlets.
“Do you smoke?” she inquired at last.
“No.”
“Turn out your pockets.”
He did so, revealing the eightpence-halfpenny, an old knife, and a piece of string.
“Very well” she said, “but see you take yourself off again to-morrow.”
“I will, an’ thank ye kindly.”
She opened the door wide, and he saw that half of the building was full of straw; several fowls were scratching about on the floor and talking in subdued gutturals. The woman pointed to a corner.
“You can take a bit of the straw and lie there,” she said, “but mind the nests.” And in the misty darkness Williams was aware of the round yellow eyes of a sitting hen fixed watchfully upon him.