Instinctively, after one glance towards Kennington Road, she took the opposite way and made for Newport Street.

Thyrza would communicate with Totty Nancarrow, if with any one at all; she would not go there at once, but Totty must be won over to aid in discovering the child and bringing her back.
It rained, not heavily, but enough to dew Lydia's hair in a few minutes.

Little she thought of that.

Thyrza wandering alone--straying off into some far part of London; Thyrza, ill as she was--with at most a few pence to procure lodging for this one night--alone among what dangers! The thought was fire in her brain.
She was in Paradise Street, and someone stood in her way, speaking.
'Lydia! Where ever are you going like that ?' It was Mary Bower.

Lydia glared at her.
'How dare you speak to me! I hate you!' And with a wild gesture, almost a blow at the girl, she rushed on.
Totty had just come in from work.