It was
produced upon him by the mere
matter-of-fact ordinariness of her
tone. He had never been a senti-
mental man, and had long ceased to
be a feeling one, but at that moment
something emotional and normal
happened to him.
"You expect to live in that way?"
he said.
"Ain't nothin' else fer me to do.
Wisht I was better lookin'. But
I've got a lot of 'air," clawing her
mop, "an' it's red. One day,"
chuckling, "a gent ses to me--he
ses: `Oh! yer'll do. Yer an ugly
little devil--but ye ARE a devil.' "
She was leading him through a
narrow, filthy back street, and she
stopped, grinning up in his face.
"I say, mister," she wheedled,
"let's stop at the cawfee-stand.
It's up this way."
When he acceded and followed
her, she quickly turned a corner.
They were in another lane thick
with fog, which flared with the
flame of torches stuck in costers'
barrows which stood here and there--
barrows with fried fish upon them,
barrows with second-hand-looking
vegetables and others piled with
more than second-hand-looking garments.
Trade was not driving, but
near one or two of them dirty, ill-
used looking women, a man or so,
and a few children stood. At a
corner which led into a black hole
of a court, a coffee-stand was stationed,
in charge of a burly ruffian in
corduroys.
"Come along," said the girl.
"There it is. It ain't strong, but
it 's 'ot."
She sidled up to the stand, drawing
Dart with her, as if glad of his
protection.
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