Perhaps Mistress Straw could give me news.

So I waited till the 'prentices (the same two who had shamefully eaten hasty pudding that day the Queen came into London), came to open the door and set out their ware.

With them, to my surprise, I saw Peter Stoupe, my fellow 'prentice.

He looked sheepish when I hailed him.
"What, Humphrey," said he, in his doleful drawl, "thou hast returned at last.

In what misfortune dost thou find us! Our good master in prison, you and I homeless, my dear mistress and her poor babes--" "Ay, what of them ?" demanded I, in no humour to hear him out.
"My dear mistress and her poor babes," continued he, heedless of my tone, "dependent on the goodness of others.