Then a policeman came along with echoing tread, and eyed her suspiciously.

She had to wait more than a quarter of an hour before Bob Hewett made his appearance.

Greeting her with a nod and a laugh, he took up a leaning position against the wall, and began to put questions concerning the state of things at her home.
'And what'll your mother do if the old man don't give her nothing to live on ?' he inquired, when he had listened good-naturedly to the recital of domestic difficulties.
'Don't knew,' replied the girl, shaking her head, the habitual surprise of her countenance becoming a blank interrogation of destiny.
Bob kept kicking the wall, first with one heel, then with the other.

He whistled a few bars of the last song he had learnt at the music-hall.
'Say, Penny,' he remarked at length, with something of shamefacedness, 'there's a namesake of mine here as I shan't miss, if you can do any good with it.' He held a shilling towards her under his hand.

Pennyloaf turned away, casting down her eyes and looking troubled.
'We can get on for a bit,' she said indistinctly.
Bob returned the coin to his pocket.