For those who have no money, not even a copper, there remains St. Crispin’s Dormitories. This Shelter, in the neighbourhood of Spitalfields, is run by charitable Catholics. The accommodation of necessity is frugal. A number of boxes run the length of the room, each box is provided with a mattress, pillow and blanket, and to obtain a box, women walk for miles and queue up early in the evening. Here there is considerable difficulty in keeping the place free from vermin, for very many of the lodgers have that long, matted hair which I have already described. St. Crispin’s is open from October to May. During the summer months it shuts down, for when the weather is warm a night on the Embankment or in one of the many open spaces of London is not insufferable. It is when the world is freezing and the wind cuts to your very soul that you cry out blindly for a bed. At such a time a dog kennel would seem hospitable: and yet all through the winter months hundreds of outcast women spend the night huddled in doorways, under arches, or keep themselves from freezing by that everlasting walking about.