With his
broom over his shoulder, and with his listless, slouching steps, he
sauntered slowly back to his crossing; but he had no heart for it now.
CHAPTER XI.
AMONG THIEVES.
The night fell early, for a thick fog came on in the afternoon. Tony
cowered down upon his broom under the wall where Dolly had sat in the
sunshine all the morning to watch him sweep his crossing. It was all over
now. She was lost to him; for he should never dare to go back to old
Oliver's house, and face that terrible old woman again. There was nothing
for him but to return to his old life and his old haunts; and a chill ran
through him, body and spirit, as he thought of it. His heap of paper
shavings under the counter, where the biting winds could not reach him,
came to his mind, and the tears rushed to his eyes. But to-night, at
least, there would be no need to sleep out of doors, for he had some
money in the safest corner of his ragged pocket, tied up in it securely
with a bit of string. He could afford to pay for a night's lodging, and
he knew very well where he could get one.
About nine o'clock Tony turned his weary feet towards a slum he knew
of in Westminster, where there was a cellar open to everybody who could
pay two-pence for a night's shelter.
Pages:
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70