She crept to him across the floor.
The father had not moved, but lay in the same death-like sleep.

The mother writhed in uneasy slumber, her chest wheezing as if she were in the agonies of strangulation.

Out at the window a florid moon was peering over dark roofs, and in the distance the waters of a river glimmered pallidly.
The small frame of the ragged girl was quivering.

Her features were haggard from weeping, and her eyes gleamed from fear.

She grasped the urchin's arm in her little trembling hands and they huddled in a corner.