At
Charing Cross she stopped, and by her movements showed that she was
looking for an omnibus. Parish longed to approach, quivered with the
ever-recurrent impulse, but his fear prevailed. In a more lucid
state of mind he would probably have remarked that Polly allowed a
great many omnibuses to go by, and that she was surely waiting much
longer than she need have done. But at length she jumped in and
disappeared, whereupon Mr. Parish spent all the money he had with
him on a large brandy and soda, hoping it would make him drunk.
The door of the house in Kennington Road stood open; in the passage
Mr. Gammon and Mr. Cheeseman were conversing genially. They nodded
to Polly, but did not speak. Passing them to the head of the kitchen
stairs she called to Mrs. Bubb, and that lady's voice summoned her
to descend.
"Are you alone?" asked Miss Sparkes sharply.
"There's only Mrs. Cheeseman."
Polly went down into the kitchen, where Mrs. Cheeseman, a stout
woman of slatternly appearance, was sitting with her legs crossed
and a plate of shrimps in her lap.
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