It was a bright winter’s day; the City folk were walking rapidly, tightly buttoned up in top-coats, and in a windy sky a flock of pigeons floated on straightened wings above the telegraph wires. Fleet Street was full of journalists going to luncheon-bars and various eating-houses. Their hurry and animation were remarkable, and Esther noticed how laggard was William’s walk by comparison, how his clothes hung loose about him, and that the sharp air was at work on his lungs, making him cough. She asked him to button himself up more closely.
“Is not that old John’s wife?” Esther said.
“Yes, that’s her,” said William. “She’d have seen us if that cove hadn’t given her the shilling…. Lord, I didn’t think they was as badly off as that. Did you ever see such rags? and that thick leg wrapped up in
