but he caught up the creature like a doll, and flung her out also on
to the landing, then coolly locked the door behind him, put the key
in his pocket, and, letting Waymark pass on first, descended the
stairs. The yelling and screeching behind them continued as long as
they were in the Court, but it drew no attention from the
neighbours, who were far too accustomed to this kind of thing to
heed it.

In the last house they had to enter they came upon a man asleep on a
bare bedstead. It was difficult to wake him. When at length he was
aroused, he glared at them for a moment with one blood-shot eye (the
other was sightless), looking much like a wild beast which doubts
whether to spring or to shrink back.

"Rent, Slimy," said Mr. Woodstock with more of good humour than
usual.

The man pointed to the mantelpiece, where the pieces of money were
found to be lying. Waymark looked round the room. Besides the
bedstead, a table was the only article of furniture, and on it stood
a dirty jug and a glass. Lying about was a strange collection of
miscellaneous articles, heaps of rags and dirty paper, bottles,
boots, bones. There were one or two chairs in process of being
new-caned; there was a wooden frame for holding glass, such as is
carried about by itinerant glaziers, and, finally, there was a
knife-grinding instrument, adapted for wheeling about the streets.
The walls were all scribbled over with obscene words and drawings.
On the inside of the door had been fitted two enormous bolts, one
above and one below.