little loosely-wrapped parcel in her hand; and finally, with slow
deliberation, she unfolded it. It contained a bloater: she felt it
carefully as though to make sure that it had a soft roe, and then smelt
it to make sure that it was good, after which she slowly wrapped it up
again. "Maybe you've no home to go to," she remarked tentatively, looking
away from Fan as if speaking to some imaginary person.

"No, I haven't," said Fan.

"You don't look a bad 'un. P'r'aps they treated you badly and you ran
away."

Fan nodded.

"And you've no place to go to, and no money?"

"No."

Again the woman's eyes wandered absently away; then she began studying
the parcel, and appeared about to unfold it once more, then thought
better of it, and at last said, still speaking in the same absent
mournful tone: "I've got a room to myself up there," indicating the upper
end of the street. "You can come and sleep along with me, if you like.
One bloater ain't much for two, but there's tea and bread, and that'll do
you good."

"Thank you, I'll come," said Fan, and moving along at her side they
walked about forty yards further on to an open door, before which stood a
dirty-looking woman with bare folded arms. She moved aside to let them
pass, and going in they went up to a top room, small and dingy, furnished