Mrs.
Biggleswade had taken away her nice clothes, and dressed her in these common things.

Then she had cut off her hair.
"I was wondering about your hair," interrupted Tinker.
For answer the little girl lifted up her black locks, hat and all; displayed a fuzzy little fair poll underneath them, and let them drop on it again.
"I see," said Tinker, and he went on with his questioning.
She had stayed with the Biggleswades, shut up in a room upstairs, she did not know how many days; and then they had come down to Solesgate.
All the while Mrs.Biggleswade had been very unkind to her, and slapped her whenever she cried for her mother.
The remembrance of her misfortunes set her crying again, and again, with quiet patience, he consoled her.

Presently she was babbling cheerfully of her home, her mother, and her dolls, and asking many questions.

He made the replies politeness demanded, but he lent an abstracted ear to her talk, for he was considering different plans for escaping Mr.Biggleswade, most of them useless by reason of the slowness of Elizabeth.

He could only make up his mind that they must dash for a cab as quickly as they could, and trust to Blazer for protection.
It seemed to him a very long journey; and even when he had made his plan, he found it no little task to take his part in the conversation.
As the train ran into London, he told her that Mr.Biggleswade was in the train, and they must bolt for the cab.