"You go back to your corner and leave your mother to me," he said; and
Fan, after hesitating a few moments, rose and shrank away.

Presently he got up again, and seizing his wife by the wrist, dragged her
hand forcibly from her face.

"Where's the coppers, you blarsted drunkard?" he shouted in her ear.
"D'ye think to get off with the little crack on the crown I've giv' you?
I'll do for you to-night if you won't hand over."

"Oh, father, father!" cried the girl, starting up in an agony of terror.
"Oh, have mercy and don't hit her, and I'll go out and try to get
threepence. Oh, father, there's nothing in the house!"

"Then go, and don't be long about it," he said, going back to his seat.

The mother roused herself at this.

"You sha'n't stir a step to-night, Fan," she said, but in a voice not
altogether resolute. "What'll come to you, going into the streets at this
time of night?"

"Something grand, like what's come to her mother, perhaps," said he with
a laugh.

"Not a step, Fan, if I die for it," retorted the mother, stung by his
words. But the girl quickly and with trembling hands had already thrust
on her old shapeless hat, and wrapped her shawl about her; then she took
a couple of boxes of safety matches, old and greasy from long use, and