None of the houses seemed to be in good repair. She picked the one that looked least as though anyone inhabited it and hesitated for a long, shivering moment. Then she swung down from the pony’s back, found a fence post to which to tie the lead rope, and limped on cramped leg muscles to knock on the door.
No one answered.
Brenda hesitated a long moment before rapping again.
“’ere!” a querulous voice snapped nearly at her feet, and her heart jumped into her throat. “Stop making that row!”
“Oh—I—” She backed up, but not quickly enough. A shadow rose from the pavement, catching hold of her arm before she could flee. A metallic scrape heralded a dark lantern opening, and red-rimmed eyes peered at her out of clothing that seemed to be no more than a bundle of rags. The scent of gin rose all
