Down the five or six rotten and broken steps she plunged, Pinky close after her.
"Stop!" shouted Norah, in a tone of command.
Instantly the blows ceased, and the cries were hushed.
"You'll be hanged for murder if you don't take care," said Norah.
"What's Nell been doin' ?" "Doin', the slut!" ejaculated the woman, a short, bloated, revolting creature, with scarcely anything human in her face.

"Doin', did ye say?
It's nothin' she's been doin', the lazy, trapsing huzzy! Who's that intrudin' herself in here ?" she added fiercely, as she saw Pinky, making at the same time a movement toward the girl.

"Get out o' here, or I'll spile y'r pictur'!" "Keep quiet, will you ?" said Norah, putting her hand on the woman and pushing her back as easily as if she had been a child.

"Now come here, Nell, and let me look at you." Out of the far corner of the cellar into which Flanagan had thrown her when she heard Norah's voice, and into the small circle of light made by a single tallow candle, there crept slowly the figure of a child literally clothed in rags.

Norah reached out her hand to her as she came up--there was a scared look on her pinched face--and drew her close to the light.
"Gracious! your hand's like an ice-ball!" exclaimed Norah.
Pinky looked at the child, and grew faint at heart.