‘I can’t think how I’ve tolerated myself all these years. She helped herself to the remainder of the slightly congealed bacon, and reverted to the problem of getting her luggage out of the house. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. Then began expostulations, preluded by a telegram and headed by her aunt. Of course she had often heard sailors hammering out their ditties.
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