“I lived so for a fortnight, then I was lucky enough to get into another eating-house.  I lived there nearly two months, and had to leave for the very same reason as at the first place.  I only half understood the meaning of what I had to resist, but my resistance led to other unbearable cruelties, and again I ran away.  I went about eight o’clock in the evening.  The thought of going back to my old sleeping places on the stairs was horrible.  Besides, for some days a strange idea had been in my head.  I had not forgotten my friend Jane, and I wondered whether, if I went to Tottenham, it would be possible to find her.  Perhaps she might be well off there, and could help me.  I had made inquiries about the way to Tottenham, and the distance, and when I left the eating-house I had made up my mind to walk straight there.  I started from Hoxton, and went on and on, till I had left the big streets behind.  I kept asking my way, but often went long distances in the wrong direction.  I knew that Tottenham was quite in the country, and my idea was to find a sleeping-place in some field, then to begin my search on the next day.  It was summer, but still I began to feel cold, and this drew me away out of my straight road to a fire which I saw burning a little way off.  I thought it would be nice to sit down by it and rest.  I found that the road was being mended, and by the fire lay a watchman in a big tub.  Just as I came up he was eating his supper.  He was a great, rough man, but I looked in his face and thought it seemed good, so I asked him if he’d let me rest a little.  Of course he was surprised at seeing me there, for it must have been midnight, and when he asked me about myself I told him the truth, because he spoke in a kind way.  Then he stopped eating and gave me what was left; it was a bit of fat bacon and some cold potatoes; but how good it was, and how good he was!  To this moment I can see that man’s face.  He got out of his tub and made me take his place, and he wrapped me up in something he had there.  Then he sat by the fire, and kept looking at me, I thought, in a sad sort of way; and he said, over and over again, ’Ay, it’s bad to be born a little girl; it’s bad to be born a little girl; pity you wasn’t a boy.’  Oh, how well I can hear his voice this moment!  And as he kept saying this, I went off to sleep.”

She stopped, and played with the pebbles.

“And in the morning?” asked Waymark.

“Well, when I woke up, it was light, and there were a lot of other men about, beginning their work on the road.  I crept out of the tub, and when they saw me, they laughed in a kind sort of way, and gave me some breakfast.  I supose I thanked them, I hope I did; the watchman was gone, but no doubt he had told the others my story, for they showed me the way to Tottenham, and wished me luck.”

“And you found your friend Jane!”