“Are you making for over the bridges?”

“I’ve just come from there,” said I. “I shall go the other way.”

“Well, then, my way shall be yours, mate.”

I nodded acquiescence and we walked along in silence, broken occasionally by my attempts at conversation.

“I don’t know as I wants to talk, mate,” said my escort. “I just thought you might like my arm round your waist.”

There was a simplicity of approach about his method which took away all suggestion of any possible offence. After all, it was very natural to suppose that a homeless woman should like the attentions of a homeless man, and I could imagine that my friend was a very kindly creature, with a strong and comforting arm.