The end of their walk was the entrance to a narrow passage, which, at a few yards’ distance, widened itself and became a street of four-storeyed houses.  At present this could not be discerned; the passage was a mere opening into massive darkness.  Richard had just been making inquiries about Emma’s sister.

‘You’ve had the doctor?’

’Yes, we’re obliged; she does so dread going to the hospital again.  Each time she’s longer in getting well.’

Richard’s hand was in his pocket; he drew it out and pressed something against the girl’s palm.

‘Oh, how can I?’ she said, dropping her eyes.  ’No—­don’t—­I’m ashamed.’

‘That’s all right,’ he urged, not unkindly.  ’You’ll have to get her what the doctor orders, and it isn’t likely you and Kate can afford it.’

‘You’re always so kind, Richard.  But I am—­I am ashamed!’

’I say, Emma, why don’t you call me Dick?  I’ve meant to ask you that many a time.’

She turned her face away, moving as if abashed.

’I don’t know.  It sounds—­perhaps I want to make a difference from what the others call you.’

He laughed with a sound of satisfaction.

’Well, you mustn’t stand here; it’s a cold night.  Try and come Tuesday or Wednesday.’

‘Yes, I will.’

‘Good night!’ he said, and, as he held her hand, bent to the lips which were ready.

Emma walked along the passage, and for some distance up the middle of the street.  Then she stopped and looked up at one of the black houses.  There were lights, more or less curtain-dimmed, in nearly all the windows.  Emma regarded a faint gleam in the topmost storey.  To that she ascended.

Mutimer walked homewards at a quick step, whistling to himself.  A latch-key gave him admission.  As he went down the kitchen stairs, he heard his mother’s voice raised in anger, and on opening the door he found that Daniel had departed, and that the supper table was already cleared.  Alice, her feet on the fender and her dress raised a little, was engaged in warming herself before going to bed.  The object of Mrs. Mutimer’s chastisement was the youngest member of the family, known as ’Arry; even Richard, who had learnt to be somewhat careful in his pronunciation, could not bestow the aspirate upon his brother’s name.  Henry, aged seventeen, promised to do credit to the Mutimers in physical completeness; already he was nearly as tall as his eldest brother; and, even in his lankness, showed the beginnings of well-proportioned vigour.  But the shape of his head, which was covered with hair of the lightest hue, did not encourage hope of mental or moral qualities.  It was not quite fair to judge his face as seen at present; the vacant grin of half timid, half insolent, resentment made him considerably more simian of visage than was the case under ordinary circumstances.  But the features were unpleasant to look upon; it was Richard’s face, distorted and enfeebled with impress of sensual instincts.