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struggled in her eyes。 She strove to turn this hysterical sensation to a low
laugh of disdain。
〃Lord； Lord！〃 she muttered beneath her breath； 〃what sort of place is
this； where they pray to a woman and a baby？〃
At that moment the woman in black rose； she was young； with a proud；
fair； but weary face。 Her eyes lighted on her soiled and poverty… stricken
sister； and she paused with a pitying look。 The street wanderer made use of
the opportunity thus offered； and in an urgent whisper implored charity。
The lady drew out a purse； then hesitated； looking wistfully at the bundle
in the shawl。
〃You have a child there？〃 she asked； in gentle accents。 〃May I see it？〃
〃Yes； lady；〃 and the wrapper was turned down sufficiently to disclose
the tiny white face； now more infinitely touching than ever in the pathos of
sleep。
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〃I lost my little one a week ago；〃 said the lady； simply； as she looked at
it。 〃He was all I had。〃 Her voice trembled； she opened her purse； and
placed a half…crown in the hand of her astonished supplicant。 〃You are
happier than I am； perhaps you will pray for me。 I am very lonely！〃
Then dropping her long crape veil so that it completely hid her
features； she bent her head and moved softly away。 The woman watched
her till her graceful figure was completely lost in the gloom of the great
church； and then turned again vaguely to the altar。
〃Pray for her！〃 she thought。 〃I！ As if I could pray！〃 And she smiled
bitterly。 Again she looked at the statue in the shrine； it had no meaning at
all for her。 She had never heard of Christianity save through the medium
of a tract； whose consoling title had been 〃Stop！ You are Going to Hell！〃
Religion of every sort was mocked at by those among whom her lot was
cast； the name of Christ was only used as a convenience to swear by； and
therefore this mysterious； smiling； gently inviting marble figure was
incomprehensible to her mind。
〃As if I could pray！〃 she repeated； with a sort of derision。 Then she
looked at the broad silver coin in her hand and the sleeping baby in her
arms。 With a sudden impulse she dropped on her knees。
〃Whoever you are；〃 she muttered； addressing the statue above her； 〃it
seems you've got a child of your own； perhaps you'll help me to take care
of this one。 It isn't mine； I wish it was！ Anyway； I love it more than its own
mother does。 I dare say you won't listen to the likes of me； but if there was
God anywhere about I'd ask Him to bless that good soul that's lost her
baby。 I bless her with all my heart； but my blessing ain't good for much。
Ah！〃 and she surveyed anew the Virgin's serene white countenance； 〃you
just look as if you understood me； but I don't believe you do。 Never mind；
I've said all I wanted to say this time。〃
Her strange petition； or rather discourse； concluded； she rose and
walked away。 The great doors of the church swung heavily behind her as
she stepped out and stood once more in the muddy street。 It was raining
steadilya fine； cold； penetrating rain。 But the coin she held was a
talisman against outer discomforts； and she continued to walk on till she
came to a clean…looking dairy； where for a couple of pence she was able to
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replenish the infant's long ago emptied feeding bottle； but she purchased
nothing for herself。 She had starved all day； and was now too faint to eat。
Soon she entered an omnibus； and was driven to Charing Cross； and
alighting at the great station； brilliant with its electric light； she paced up
and down outside it； accosting several of the passers…by and imploring
their pity。 One man gave her a penny； another； young and handsome； with
a flushed； intemperate face； and a look of his fast…fading boyhood still
about him； put his hand in his pocket and drew out all the loose coppers it
contained； amounting to three pennies and an odd farthing； and； dropping
them into her outstretched palm； said； half gaily； half boldly： 〃You ought
to do better than that with those big eyes of yours！〃 She drew back and
shuddered； he broke into a coarse laugh； and went his way。 Standing
where he had left her； she seemed for a time lost in wretched reflections；
the fretful； wailing cry of the child she carried roused her； and hushing it
softly； she murmured； 〃Yes； yes； darling； it is too wet and cold for you； we
had better go。〃 And acting suddenly on her resolve； she hailed another
omnibus； this time bound for Tottenham Court Road； and was； after some
dreary jolting； set down at her final destinationa dirty alley in the worst
part of Seven Dials。 Entering it； she was hailed with a shout of derisive
laughter from some rough…looking men and women； who were standing
grouped round a low gin…shop at the corner。
〃Here's Liz！〃 cried one。 〃Here's Liz and the bloomin' kid！〃
〃Now； old gel； fork out！ How much 'ave you got； Liz？ Treat us to a
drop all round！〃
Liz waked past them steadily； the conspicuous curve of her upper lip
came into full play； and her eyes flashed disdainfully； but she said nothing。
Her silence exasperated a tangle…haired； cat…faced girl of seventeen years；
who； more than half drunk； sat on the ground； clasping her knees with both
arms and rocking herself lazily to and fro。
〃Mother Mawks！〃 cried she； 〃Mother Mawks！ You're wanted！ Here's
Liz come back with your babby！〃
As if her words had been a powerful incantation to summon forth an
evil spirit； a door in one of the miserable houses was thrown open； and a
stout woman； nearly naked to the waist； with a swollen； blotched； and
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most hideous countenance； rushed out furiously； and darting at Liz； shook
her violently by the arm。
〃Where's my shullin'？〃 she yelled； 〃where's my gin？ Out with it！ Out
with my shullin' an' fourpence！ None of yer sneakin' ways with me； a
bargain's a bargain all the world over！ Yer're making a fortin' with my
babbyyer know y' are； pays yer a good deal better than yer old trade！
Don't say it don'tyer know it do。 Yer'll not find such a sickly kid
anywheres； an' it's the sickly kids wot pays an'