The room was hung with reeking clothes from wall to wall. For a time
it was difficult to distinguish objects through the steam, and
Waymark, making his way in, stumbled and almost fell over an open
box. From the box at once proceeded a miserable little wail, broken
by as terrible a cough as a child could be afflicted with; and
Waymark then perceived that the box was being used as a cradle, in
which lay a baby gasping in the agonies of some throat disease,
whilst drops from the wet clothing trickled on to its face.

On leaving this house, they entered Elm Court. Here, sitting on the
doorstep of the first house, was a child of apparently nine or ten,
and seemingly a girl, though the nondescript attire might have
concealed either sex, and the face was absolutely sexless in its
savagery. Her hair was cut short, and round her neck was a bit of
steel chain, fastened with string. On seeing the two approach, she
sprang up, and disappeared with a bound into the house.

"That's the most infernal little devil in all London, I do believe,"
said Mr. Woodstock, as they began to ascend the stairs. "Her mother
owes two weeks, and if she don't pay something to-day, I'll have her
out. She'll be shamming illness, you'll see. The child ran up to
prepare her."

The room in question was at the top of the house. It proved to be
quite bare of furniture. On a bundle of straw in one corner was
lying a woman, to all appearances _in extremis_. She lay looking up
to the ceiling, her face distorted into the most ghastly anguish,
her lips foaming; her whole frame shivered incessantly.

"Ha, I thought so," exclaimed Abraham as he entered. "Are you going