"She nodded thrice to-day."

"But she is told to do that to relieve me, and maybe those nods don't
tell the truth."

"Is she your girl?"

"No; we have none but the baby. She is a neighbour's; she comes twice a
day."

"It is heartless of her parents not to send her every hour."

"But she is six years old," he said, "and has a house and two sisters
to look after in the daytime, and a dinner to cook. Gentlefolk don't
understand."

"I suppose you live in some low part, William."

"Off Drury Lane," he answered, flushing; "but--but it isn't low. You
see, we were never used to anything better, and I mind when I let her
see the house before we were married, she--she a sort of cried because
she was so proud of it. That was eight years ago, and now--she's afeard
she'll die when I'm away at my work."

"Did she tell you that?"

"Never; she always says she is feeling a little stronger."

"Then how can you know she is afraid of that?"