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 might have "taken in lodgers" in the room, as others did, but she doubted her ability to bully the rent out of them, or to turn them out if they did not pay. Whatever was pawnable had gone already, of course, except the little nickel-plated clock. That might have produced as much as sixpence, but she had a whim to keep it. She regarded it as a memorial of Josh, for it was his sole contribution to the family appointments.

Dicky, with a cast-off jacket from the vicar's store, took to hanging about Liverpool Street Station in quest of bags to carry. Sometimes he got bags, and coppers for carrying them; sometimes he got kicks from porters. An hour or two of disappointment in this pursuit would send him off on the prowl to "find" new stock for Mr. Weech. He went farther afield now; to the market-places in Mile End and Stepney, and to the riverside, where there were many chances—guarded