down. We've got to get down ourselves to get properly disgusted with it."

She spoke with the accent of an educated woman, moving to the make-shift
table and beginning to "tidy-up." As she passed between him and the light
Ned could see that the cotton dress was her only covering.

"How are the children?" asked Nellie.

"How can you expect them to be?" retorted the other.

"You ought to wean the baby," insisted Nellie, as though it was one of
their habitual topics.

"Wean the baby! That's all very well for those who can buy plenty of
milk. It's a pity it's ever got to be weaned."

"Plenty of work this week?" asked Nellie, changing the subject.

"Yes; plenty of work this week. You know what that means. No work at all
when they get a stock ahead, so as to prevent us feeling too independent
I suppose." She paused, then added: "That girl downstairs says she isn't
going to work any more. I talked to her a little but she says one might
just as well die one way as another, and that she'll have some pleasure
first. I couldn't blame her much. She's got a good heart. She's been very
kind to the children."

Nellie did not answer; she did not even look up.

"They're going to reduce prices at the shop," went on Mrs. Somerville.
"They told me last time I went that after this lot they shouldn't pay as