When the sisters had done their business at the boot-maker's, and
were considering what their purchase should be for Sunday's dinner,
Thyrza caught sight of Totty Nancarrow entering a shop. At once she
said: 'I won't be late back, Lyddy. I'm just going to walk a little
way with Totty.'

Lydia's face showed annoyance.

'Where is she?' she asked, looking back.

'In the butcher's just there.'

'Don't go to-night, Thyrza. I'd rather you didn't.'

'I promise I won't be late. Only half an hour.'

She waved her hand and ran off, of a sudden changed to cheerfulness.
Totty received her in the shop with a friendly laugh. Mrs. Bower's
description of Miss Nancarrow as a lad in petticoats was not inapt,
yet she was by no means heavy or awkward. She had a lithe, shapely
figure, and her features much resembled those of a fairly
good-looking boy. Her attire showed little care for personal
adornment, but it suited her, because it suggested bodily activity.
She wore a plain, tight-fitting grey gown, a small straw hat of the
brimless kind, and a white linen collar about her neck. Totty was
nineteen; no girl in Lambeth relished life with so much
determination, yet to all appearance so harmlessly. Her independence
was complete; for five years she had been parentless and had lived
alone.