For the accommodation I have outlined⁠—the use of a soiled bed, cold water and the lodging house kitchen⁠—the charge is one shilling and twopence a night. This is an economic rent; eight and twopence a week for the use of a bed, is sufficient to provide clean sheets, proper bathrooms and human conditions. But even on the plea of good business I have been unable to get anyone to move in this matter. Thus, within a stone’s throw of the most luxurious part of London, you have a condition of things differing in essentials very little from the slums. And what I have said as to Kennedy Court holds good in varying degrees about the other lodging houses.

The process of undressing for the outcast is simple. A dim gas mantle gave an irritating light which enabled me darkly to follow the movements of my room mates. The general custom is to sleep⁠—in the winter at all events⁠—in all your clothes, removing your hat and shoes for the sake of courtesy. The younger girls take off their outer garments sometimes, but the older hands cling tightly to every stitch; a course⁠—as I was subsequently to discover⁠—highly to be commended.