Soon one of the costumes will have to go. It will be necessary to sell it for food or shelter. And then her boots will begin to disintegrate, her remaining costume will grow dirty, she will be unable to change her underwear, and finally, perhaps she will be discovered in the street in a state of collapse. Not improbably, she will be charged at the police station for being without visible means of support. If she is lucky she will be sent to the workhouse; if things are against her, she may go to prison. In any case the interregnum will be a short one; and she will emerge into the light of day to resume the walking about, the never-ending, monotonously-grinding walking about.