They've got one son.

The Hughs have let off the first-floor front-room to an old man named Creed---" "Yes, I know," Cecilia muttered.
"He makes about one and tenpence a day by selling papers.

The back-room on that floor they let, of course, to your little model, Aunt B." "She is not my model now." There was a silence such as falls when no one knows how far the matter mentioned is safe to, touch on.

Thyme proceeded with her report.
"Her room's much the best in the house; it's airy, and it looks out over someone's garden.

I suppose she stays there because it's so cheap.