But there was no time for further communion between these motherly hearts, for a loud rasp on the ladder told that Mr Jarker was descending, and the visitor prepared to leave. "You've been a-pipin' again," growled Mr Jarker to his wife, who had hastily concealed the boots--"pipin' about that 'ere kid as has gone; and a good thing too. Wot's the good when here's another a-coming?" and he looked menacingly at the shivering woman. "I say," he continued to the visitor, who now stood at the door, "you'll pay up reg'lar, and in advance!" "Yes, yes!" she said hoarsely, almost fiercely, as she turned to him with a steady contemptuous look, which made the great brute shuffle about uneasily--"yes, yes, so long as I live;" and the next moment the door closed upon her retreating form. "Long as you live? Yes; I should just think you will, or else there'll precious soon be a kid found at somebody's door, with the perlice, cuss 'em, taking the brat to the workus.--And don't you pipe no more," he snarled to the trembling woman, who slowly retreated to the washtub. "A taking of it to the workus, cuss 'em," muttered Mr Jarker again, removing his fur cap and passing his hand over his cropped head, as if the name of the police, and their probable future duty, had reminded him of former injuries. "Now then, you!" he shouted, as if calling his dog, and he threw the shilling upon the table--"d'yer hear?" "Yes, Bill," said the woman meekly, and hastily passing her hands over her dull red eyes before she turned to him the face from which all that was attractive had long since fled. "Tripe!" said Mr Jarker. "Yes, Bill," said his wife. "Pipe and screw," growled Mr Jarker. "Yes, Bill," said the woman, hurriedly tying on a miserable bonnet. "And here, you!" "I wasn't going, Bill," said the woman meekly. "Who said you was?" growled the ruffian; "don't you be so sharp, now, then. Now, where's that money?" "What money, Bill?" The next moment the ruffian had seized her by the front of her dress and dragged her to him, so that she went down upon her knees. "Don't you try to put none of your games on me. What did she give you when I was out of sight?" And he put his black face down close to hers, as, half from fear, half from bitterness, her lower lip worked as she tried to keep back the tears, and to answer; but no words would come. "D'yer hear? What did she give yer?" "Nothing, Bill," whispered the woman. He looked at her fiercely; but though faded and lack-lustre, her eyes blenched not, but gave him back the same true steady look that had always shone for him since--young, ignorant, ill-taught, weak--she had believed he cared for her, and she could be happy with him: not the first of Eve's daughters that has made the same mistake. "Get up!" snarled Jarker, loosing his hold; and his wife rose hastily without a word. "Pint of porter, with half-a-quartern of gin in it." "Yes, Bill," she whispered, and drew on a washed-out shawl.