To this hour I do not know what special pains and penalties were risked by Kitty and the kindly Ellen in the doing of this act of mercy. But whatever punishment they might have incurred they did not worry, and out of the largeness of their hearts, without a thought of themselves, they got me what I wanted that moment most in all the world.

The tea was hot and sweetened, and as I drank, vitality swept back into my blood. Kitty, it seemed, had a small store of groceries concealed somewhere on her person, or on the premises, from which she drew when occasion required. With the genius of her race she had already enlisted supporters all over the building, and Ellen, transmitting her desire, had induced a man on the next floor to supply hot water⁠—tact did all the rest.

I had a chat with Kitty after this refreshment and she warned me very solemnly to avoid certain casual wards.

“Some are good, some are bad, but I manage to get on with them all, except Tonbridge. I can’t never go to Tonbridge⁠—never again.”