“And then, me dear, they wanted me room, so they could get more rent⁠—and somehowes they managed it and I’ve been on the road ever since. A fine, healthy life it is, and many’s the helping hand I get, though⁠—” she glanced at her feet, “boots is me trouble. You’re new to the House, me dear,” she added, “but don’t you worry, I’ll put you right, so that you’ll know what to do when you come again.”

It was at this moment that a short, stugger little woman with a red face claimed attention. She was very agitated and most aggrieved. It seems that her vest, which had been fumigated with the rest of her clothes, was missing from her bundle, and leave the House without that vest she would not. The attendant on duty, a kindly young woman, of great humanity and understanding, had hunted for it up and down the corridor, but nowhere could it be found. Various women were interrogated but not a shadow of a vest was forthcoming. The red faced lady would not budge; the vest was hers, and somehow or other it must be produced.