All that she had left of that home was her box, and she would have betaken herself to a desolate brooding over its contents; but it had not been brought up, and neither could she carry it up herself, nor would she open it in the kitchen where it stood.

So she sat down on the side of her bed, and gazed round the room.

It was a cheerless room.

At home she had had chequered curtains to her bed: here there were none of any kind; and her eyes rested on nothing but bare rafters and boards.
And there were holes in the roof and round the floor, which she did not like.

They were not large, but they were dreadful.