He was passing a chemist’s shop, when a customer came out He recognised Rodman.  After a moment’s uncertainty he made up his mind to follow him, wondering how Rodman came to be in this part of London.  Keeping at a cautious distance, he saw him stop at a small house and enter it by aid of a latchkey.

‘Why, he lives there!’ ’Arry exclaimed to himself.  ’What’s the meanin’ o’ this go?’

Rodman, after all, had seriously come down in the world, then.  It occurred to ’Arry that he might do worse than pay his sister a visit; Alice could not be hard-hearted enough to refuse him a few coppers.  But the call must be made at an hour when Rodman was away.  Presumably that would be some time after eight in the morning.

Our unconventional friend walked many miles that night.  It was one way of keeping warm, and there was always a possibility of aid from one or other of the acquaintances whom he sought.  The net result of the night’s campaign was half-a-pint of ‘four-half.’  The front of a draper’s shop in Kennington tempted him sorely; he passed it many times, eyeing the rolls of calico and flannel exposed just outside the doorway.  But either courage failed him or there was no really good opportunity.  Midnight found him still without means of retiring to that familiar lodging in the New Cut.  At half-past twelve sleet began to fall.  He discovered a very dark corner of a very dark slum, curled himself against the wall, and slept for a few hours in defiance of wind and weather.

’Arry was used to this kind of thing.  On the whole he deemed it preferable to the life he would have led at his mother’s.

By eight o’clock next morning he was back in Brixton, standing just where he could see the house which Rodman had entered, without himself attracting attention.  Every rag on his back was soaked; he had not eaten a mouthful for thirty hours.  After such a run of bad luck perhaps something was about to turn up.

But it was ten o’clock before Rodman left home.  ’Arry had no feeling left in any particle of his body.  Still here at length was the opportunity of seeing Alice.  He waited till Rodman was out of sight, then went to the door and knocked.

It was Clara who opened the door.  Seeing ’Arry, she took him for a beggar, shook her head, and was closing the door against him, when she heard—­

‘Is Mrs. Rodman in, mum?’

‘Mrs.—­who?’

‘Mrs. Rodman.’

Clara’s eyes flashed as they searched his face.

‘What do you want with Mrs. Rodman?’

‘Want to see her, mum.’

‘Do you know her when you see her?’

‘Sh’ think I do,’ replied ’Arry with a grin.  But he thought it prudent to refrain from explanation.

‘How do you know she lives here?’

’’Cause I just see her ‘usband go out.’

Clara hesitated a moment, then bade him enter.  She introduced him to a parlour on the ground floor.  He stood looking uneasily about him.  The habits of his life made him at all times suspicious.