Bunce had an exaggerated fear of giving trouble, and only sheer necessity had compelled him to request this small service.
'They'll be downstairs, I suppose,' he muttered, striking a match.
The hungry room had no occupants.

On the floor lay a skeleton doll, a toy tambourine, a whipping-top, and a wried tin whistle.

There was one bedstead, and a bed made up on a mattress laid on the floor.

On a round clothless table stood two plates, one with a piece of bread and butter remaining, and two cups and saucers.

The fire had died out.
A shrill voice was calling from below stairs.
'Mr.Bunce! Mr.Bunce! Your children is gone out with Miss Nancarrow as far as the butcher's.