yourself, and how you come to be alone here in London. It does me
good to talk. It prevents me from thinking."

"There is very little to tell," Frank said; and he related to him
the circumstances of the deaths of his father and mother, and how
it came that he was alone in London in search of a place.

"You're in a fix," the porter said.

"Yes, I can see that."

"You see you're young for most work, and you never had no practice
with horses, or you might have got a place to drive a light cart.
Then, again, your knowing nothing of London is against you as an
errand boy; and what's worse than all this, anyone can see with
half an eye that you're a gentleman, and not accustomed to hard
work. However, we will think it over. The daylight's breaking now,
and I has to be at work at six. But look ye here, young fellow,
tomorrow I've got to look for a room, and when I gets it there's
half of it for you, if you're not too proud to accept it. It will
be doing me a real kindness, I can tell you, for what I am to do
alone of an evening without Jane and the kids, God knows. I can't
believe they're gone yet."

Then the man threw himself down upon the sacks, and broke into
sobs. Frank listened for half an hour till these gradually died
away, and he knew by the regular breathing that his companion was
asleep. It was long after this before be himself closed his eyes.
The position did, indeed, appear a dark one. Thanks to the offer
of his companion, which he at once resolved to accept for a time,