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The stranger says the woman is dying. The policeman stoops down, lays his hand upon her temples, then mechanically feels her arms and hands. "And I-must die-die-die in the street," whispers the woman, her head falling carelessly from the policeman's hand, in which it had rested. "Got her a bit below, at the Work'ouse door, among them wot sleeps there, eh?" The stranger says he did.
"You'd better trot along upstairs, then, an' make sure," said Fancy. As soon as the woman was gone she jerked a nod towards the door. "Now we can talk. I didn't want her to know, but Pam comes from the work'ouse. His father was mate of a vessel and drowned at sea, and his mother couldn't manage alone." "What vessel?" asked Captain Cai. Both skippers were regarding the boy with interest.
The stranger says the woman is dying. The policeman stoops down, lays his hand upon her temples, then mechanically feels her arms and hands. "And I must die die die in the street," whispers the woman, her head falling carelessly from the policeman's hand, in which it had rested. "Got her a bit below, at the Work'ouse door, among them wot sleeps there, eh?" The stranger says he did.
The girl nodded her head vaguely. "They say as how mommer can't take care of us popper he's got to go to the work'ouse again. He wa'n't so very drunk this time but the judge sent him there mean old thing! And they say mommer can't take care of us and we'll have to be put away in 'sylums. And we don't want to go. She says if the Charity folks will help with the rent, we can get on.
No word or anything left?" "Nothing; an' theer's a purty strong faith she'm in the river, poor lamb. Theer's draggin' gwaine to be done in the ugly bits. I heard tell of it to the village, wheer I'd just stepped up to see auld Lezzard moved to the work'ouse. A wonnerful coorious, rackety world, sure 'nough! Do make me giddy." "Does Will know?" asked Mr. Lyddon.
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