Judith lives in Tottenham Mansions, in the purlieus of the Tottenham Court Road.

The ground floor of the building is a public-house, and on summer evenings one can sit by the open windows, and breathe in the health-giving fumes of beer and whisky, and listen to the sweet, tuneless strains of itinerant musicians.

When my new fortunes enabled me to give the dear woman just the little help that allowed her to move into a more commodious flat, she had the many mansions of London to choose from.

Why she insisted on this abominable locality I could never understand.

It isn't as if the flat were particularly cheap; indeed the fact of its being situated over a public-house seems to enhance the rent.