The moment Esther got out of the house in Curzon Street she felt in her pocket for her money. She had only a few pence; enough for her 'bus fare, however, and her thoughts did not go further. She was absorbed by one desire, how to save her child--how to save him from Mrs. Spires, whom she vaguely suspected; from the world, which called him a bastard and denied to him the right to live. And she sat as if petrified in the corner of the 'bus, seeing nothing but a little street of four houses, facing some haylofts, the low-pitched kitchen, the fat woman, the cradle in the corner. The intensity and the oneness of her desire seemed to annihilate time, and when she got out of the omnibus she walked with a sort of animal-like instinct straight for the house. There was a light in the kitchen just as she expected, and as she descended the four wooden steps into the area she looked to see if Mrs. Spires was there. She was there, and Esther pushed open the door. "Where's my baby?" "Lord, 'ow yer did frighten me!" said Mrs. Spires, turning from the range and leaning against the table, which was laid for supper. "Coming like that into other folk's places without a word of warning--without as much as knocking at the door." "I beg your pardon, but I was that anxious about my baby." "Was you indeed? It is easy to see it is the first one. There it is in the cradle there." "Have you sent for the doctor?" "Sent for the doctor! I've to get my husband's supper." Esther took her baby out of the cradle. It woke up crying, and Esther said, "You don't mind my sitting down a moment. The poor little thing wants its mother." "If Mrs. Rivers saw you now a-nursing of yer baby?" "I shouldn't care if she did. He's thinner than when I left him; ten days 'ave made a difference in him." "Well, yer don't expect a child to do as well without its mother as with her. But tell me, how did yer get out? You must have come away shortly after me." "I wasn't going to stop there and my child ill." "Yer don't mean to tell me that yer 'ave gone and thrown hup the situation?" "She told me if I went out, I should never enter her door again." "And what did you say?" "Told her I didn't want to." "And what, may I ask, are yer thinking of doing? I 'eard yer say yer 'ad no money." "I don't know." "Take my advice, and go straight back and ask 'er to overlook it, this once." "Oh, no, she'd never take me back." "Yes, she will; you suits the child, and that's all they think of." "I don't know what will become of me and my baby." "No more don't I. Yer can't stop always in the work'us, and a baby'll be a 'eavy drag on you. Can't you lay 'ands on 'is father, some'ow?" Esther shook her head, and Mrs. Spires noticed that she was crying. "I'm all alone," she said; "I don't know 'ow I'm ever to pull through."