She and her cockatoo lived on her wages; and all the tips added up, and never spent, year after year, went to swell a very comfortable little account at interest in the Birkbeck Bank.

This little account had mounted up to a very tidy sum, and the thrifty widow--or old maid--no one ever knew which she was--was generally referred to by the young artists of the Rubens Studios as a 'lady of means.' But this is a digression.
"No one slept on the premises except Mrs.Owen and her cockatoo.

The rule was that one by one as the tenants left their rooms in the evening they took their respective keys to the caretaker's room.

She would then, in the early morning, tidy and dust the studios and the office downstairs, lay the fire and carry up coals.
"The foreman of the glass works was the first to arrive in the morning.
He had a latch-key, and let himself in, after which it was the custom of the house that he should leave the street door open for the benefit of the other tenants and their visitors.
"Usually, when he came at about nine o'clock, he found Mrs.Owen busy about the house doing her work, and he had often a brief chat with her about the weather, but on this particular morning of February 2nd he neither saw nor heard her.

However, as the shop had been tidied and the fire laid, he surmised that Mrs.Owen had finished her work earlier than usual, and thought no more about it.