Had known her a long time--years, she thought--and they lodged together. She had often said that she was tired of life, but never talked about her friends, or anything of the past: thought she came from the country. Had not seen her before for days, and had been uneasy, and fancied she had gone over the bridge, as many did--could not tell why, unless because she was tired of her life, and had the feeling of being drawn to do it. Her name was Marian--that was what she was called--but thought it was not her real name; did not know why; but many girls like her gave themselves fresh names. She gave witness a little Bible once, with passages marked in it, but there was no name in it. Never spoke of anyone else, or of herself, but was always very kind, and had nursed witness once through a bad fever, not long back, and never left her night or day, when no one else dared come near; and now she was gone. There was a pause here longer than those made while the coroner had taken down the depositions, during which he had frowned very severely; and now appeared greatly annoyed at the unbusiness-like sobbing of the poor girl, who sat down again upon a form behind old Matt, who tried to whisper a few words of comfort, as the jurymen mostly seemed very intent upon the paper before them. Then followed the doctor to tell of his horrible task, and express his opinion respecting the marks of blows upon the face of deceased, such, though, as might have been caused by striking against some part of the bridge in falling; he was of opinion that she must have struck twice, as there was a fracture upon the back of the skull; and she had evidently been dead some days. "Found dead." And then there was a little quiet bustle, and scraping of chairs upon the oilcloth, for the inquest was over; and old Matt and the weeping girl were standing outside by some railings. "Strange as we should meet again after talking as we did." "Yes, yes," said the girl sadly; "but why didn't you say you knew her when I spoke to you?" "Didn't know her by that name," said Matt; "and I had only seen her a few times, hardly to speak to. But about that Bible?" "Well!" said the girl sadly. "Have you got it now?" "Yes," she said; and then she turned, for a hand was laid upon her arm, and one of the jurymen led her on a few steps talking long and earnestly, till after repeating something aloud two or three times he walked away; and Matt and the girl, two of the waifs of London streets, went slowly on, not noticing that they were watched. "Poor, poor Marian!" sobbed the girl, stopping by a doorway. "Told me to read the words she had marked in the Bible, and then to go and do that!" "Well, well, well," said the old man, "let's hope she has gone to a better world; and now, my lass, where are you going?" "Back to my lodging," said the girl wearily. "That gentleman told you to call somewhere, didn't he?" said Matt. "Ah, yes," said the girl abstractedly, "I think so."