rounded by the high walls of the back parts of larger
buildings--chiefly business premises and offices. The air did not
circulate very freely in this place, and the rays of the sun never
reached it. In the summer the atmosphere was close and foul with the
various odours which came from the back-yards of the adjoining
buildings, and in the winter it was dark and damp and gloomy, a
culture-ground for bacteria and microbes. The majority of those who
profess to be desirous of preventing and curing the disease called
consumption must be either hypocrites or fools, for they ridicule the
suggestion that it is necessary first to cure and prevent the poverty
that compels badly clothed and half-starved human beings to sleep in
such dens as this.

The front door opened into the living-room or, rather, kitchen, which
was dimly lighted by a small paraffin lamp on the table, where were
also some tea-cups and saucers, each of a different pattern, and the
remains of a loaf of bread. The wallpaper was old and discoloured; a
few almanacs and unframed prints were fixed to the walls, and on the
mantelshelf were some cracked and worthless vases and ornaments. At
one time they had possessed a clock and an overmantel and some framed
pictures, but they had all been sold to obtain money to buy food.
Nearly everything of any value had been parted with for the same
reason--the furniture, the pictures, the bedclothes, the carpet and the
oilcloth, piece by piece, nearly everything that had once constituted
the home--had been either pawned or sold to buy food or to pay rent
during the times when Newman was out of work--periods that had recurred
during the last few years with constantly increasing frequency and
duration. Now there was nothing left but these few old broken chairs
and the deal table which no one would buy; and upstairs, the wretched
bedsteads and mattresses whereon they slept at night, covering
themselves with worn-out remnants of blankets and the clothes they wore
during the day.

In answer to Philpot's knock, the door was opened by a little girl
about seven years old, who at once recognized Philpot, and called out
his name to her mother, and the latter came also to the door, closely
followed by two other children, a little, fragile-looking girl about
three, and a boy about five years of age, who held on to her skirt and
peered curiously at the visitors. Mrs Newman was about thirty, and her
appearance confirmed the statement