The woman took no notice, but continued moving about in her subdued way,
until all was ready, and then going to the window she stood there gazing
out into the mist and darkness. Only when Fan had finished crying she
came back to the fireside, and they sat down to their tea. It was a
silent meal, but when it was over, and the few things washed and put
away, she drew the deal box up to the fire and sat down by Fan. Then they
talked a little: Fan told her that her mother was just dead, that she was
homeless and trying to find something to do for a living. The woman, on
her side, said she worked at a laundry close by. "But they don't want no
more hands there," she added, in a desponding way. "And you ain't fit for
such work neither. You must try to find something for yourself to-morrow,
and if you can't find nothing, which I don't think you will, come back
and sleep with me. It don't cost much to give you tea, and I ain't owing
any rent now, and it's company for me, so you needn't mind."

After this short conversation they went to bed and to sleep, for they
were both tired.




CHAPTER IV


The result of Fan's second day's search for employment proved no more
promising than the first. She wandered about the Westbourne Park
district, going as far west as Ladbroke Grove Road, still avoiding the
streets, gardens, and squares of the larger houses. But she was
apparently not good enough for even the humbler class of dwellings, for
no one would so much as ask her what she could do, or condescend to speak