‘Now what I want to know,’ exclaimed one, returning to the main subject, ’is where Mutimer gets his money to live on.  He does no work, we know that much.’

‘He told us all about that this mornin’,’ replied the authority.  ’He has friends as keeps him goin’, that’s all.  As far as I can make out it’s a sort o’ subscription.’

‘Now, there you are!’ put in Daniel with half a sneer.  ’I don’t call that Socialism.  Let a man support himself by his own work, then he’s got a right to say what he likes.  No, no, we know what Socialism means, eh, Tom?’

The man appealed to answered with a laugh.

‘Well, blest if I do, Dan!  There’s so many kinds o’ Socialism nowadays.  Which lot does he pretend to belong to?  There’s the “Fiery Cross,” and there’s Roodhouse with his “Tocsin,” and now I s’pose Dick’ll be startin’ another paper of his own.’

‘No, no,’ replied Mutimer’s supporter.  ’He holds by the “Fiery Cross” still, so he said this mornin’.  I’ve no opinion o’ Roodhouse myself.  He makes a deal o’ noise, but I can’t ’see as he does anything.’

‘You won’t catch Dick Mutimer sidin’ with Roodhouse,’ remarked Daniel with a wink.  ‘That’s an old story, eh, Tom?’

Thus the talk went on, and the sale of beverages kept pace with it.  About eight o’clock the barmaid informed Daniel that Mrs. Clay wished to see him.  Kate had entered the house by the private door, and was sitting in the bar-parlour.  Daniel went to her at once.

She was more slovenly in appearance than ever, and showed all the signs of extreme poverty.  Her face was not merely harsh and sour, it indicated a process of degradation.  The smile with which she greeted Daniel was disagreeable through excessive anxiety to be ingratiating.  Her eyes were restless and shrewd.  Daniel sat down opposite to her, and rested his elbows on the table.

’Well, how’s all at ‘ome?’ he began, avoiding her look as he spoke.

‘Nothing much to boast of,’ Kate replied with an unpleasant giggle.  ‘We keep alive.’

‘Emma all right?’

’She’s all right, except for her bad ’ead-aches.  She’s had another of ’em this week.  But I think it’s a bit better to-day.’

‘She’ll have a rest to-morrow.’

The following day was the August bank-holiday.

’No, she’ll have no rest.  She’s going to do some cleaning in Goswell Road.’

Daniel drummed with his fingers on the table.

‘She isn’t fit to do it, that’s quite certain,’ Mrs. Clay continued.  ’I wish I could get her out for an hour or two.  She wants fresh air, that’s what it is.  I s’pose you’re going somewhere to-morrow?’

It was asked insinuatingly, and at the same time with an air of weary resignation.

‘Well, I did think o’ gettin’ as far as Epping Forest.  D’you think you could persuade Emma to come? you and the children as well, you know.  I’ll have the mare out if she will.’