She prepared for the visit by dividing her morning’s receipts into two parcels. The two ten-cent scrips she hid away in the lining of her tattered jacket. The pennies, including one five-cent scrip, she put in the pocket of her dress. This last was intended for her granny. She then started homewards, dragging her broom after her.
She walked to Centre Street, turned after a while into Leonard, and went on, turning once or twice, until she came to one of the most wretched tenement houses to be found in that not very choice locality. She passed through an archway leading into an inner court, on which fronted a rear house more shabby, if possible, than the front dwelling. The court was redolent of odors far from savory; children pallid, dirty, and unhealthy-looking, were playing about, filling the air with shrill cries, mingled with profanity; clothes were hanging from some of the windows; miserable and besotted faces were seen at others.
Tom looked up to a window in the fourth story. She could descry a woman, with a pipe in her mouth.
She went up three flights, and, turning at the top, went to the door and opened it.
It was a wretched room, containing two chairs and a table, nothing more. On one of the chairs was seated a large woman, of about sixty, with a clay pipe in her mouth. The room was redolent of the vilest tobacco-smoke.
If granny had ever been beautiful, there were no traces of that dangerous gift in the mottled and wrinkled face, with bleared eyes, which turned towards the door as Tom entered.
“Why didn’t you come afore, Tom?” she demanded.
“I’m on time,” said Tom. “Clock aint but just struck.”
Tom pulled out her stock of pennies and placed them in the woman’s outstretched palm.
Tom advanced, not reluctantly, for she felt sure that granny would not think of searching her jacket, especially as she had brought home as much as usual.
The old woman thrust her hand into the child’s pocket, and turned it inside-out with her claw-like fingers, but not another penny was to be found.
“Umph!” she grunted, apparently satisfied with her scrutiny.
Granny rose from her chair, and going to a shelf took down a piece of bread, which had become dry and hard.
“Gi’ me a penny to buy an apple,” said Tom,—rather by way of keeping up appearances than because she wanted one. Visions of a more satisfactory repast filled her imagination.