at the entrance of a short narrow street, running up to the canal. It had
a very squalid appearance, and a number of ragged children were running
about shouting at their play in it, but it was better than the
thoroughfare to rest in, and advancing a few yards, she paused on the
edge of the pavement and leant against a lamp-post. A few of the dirty
children came near and stared at her, then returned to their noisy sports
with the others. A little further on women were standing at their doors
exchanging remarks. Presently a thin sad-looking woman, in a rusty black
gown, carrying something wrapped in a piece of newspaper in her hand,
came by from the thoroughfare. She paused near Fan, looked at her once or
twice, and said:

"What name be you looking for? The numbers is mostly rubbed off the
doors. Maybe they never had none."

"I wasn't looking for anyone," said Fan.

"I thought you was, seeing you standing as if you didn't know where to
go, like."

Fan shook her head, feeling too tired to say anything. She had no friend,
no one she knew even in these poor tenements, and only wished to rest a
little there out of sight of the passing people. The woman was still
standing still, but not watching her.

"Maybe you're waiting for someone?" she suggested.

"No."

"No? you're not." And after a further interval she began studying the