The complainant testified long, loud and very bitterly.

“She’s always interfering, that old woman! You can’t get a thing in this place unless you pay for it through the nose; she won’t let you have a drop of hot water unless you give her some coppers, and if you don’t tip the old cat she reports you, and you may find yourself chucked out.”

“Its all very well to complain,” said the older woman, “but it’s your own fault, every one of you. You sit there and talk about her when she’s out of the room, and when she comes back you haven’t a word to say. You ought to go in a body and make a complaint to the man who employs her and makes his money letting beds to us. That’s what’s the matter with women the world over; they grumble among themselves, and when it comes to showing fight, they turn tail and run away. It’s always been the same story; it’s like that in life as well as in this place. That’s why men will beat us every time.”

She swept out of the kitchen on the closing words, and someone mentioned that she was not coming back that night. She hadn’t any money.