ld be put there. The house in Harrington Street had been a bootmaker's;
and the shop was used as a bed-room; but it was very dark, since the
window had been boarded three parts up, and as this did not open the only
ventilation came from a small skylight at the far end. There was a musty
smell, and Philip was thankful that he would not have to sleep there.
Harris took him up to the sitting-room, which was on the first floor; it
had an old piano in it with a keyboard that looked like a row of decayed
teeth; and on the table in a cigar-box without a lid was a set of
dominoes; old numbers of The Strand Magazine and of The Graphic were
lying about. The other rooms were used as bed-rooms. That in which Philip
was to sleep was at the top of the house. There were six beds in it, and
a trunk or a box stood by the side of each. The only furniture was a chest
of drawers: it had four large drawers and two small ones, and Philip as
the new-comer had one of these; there were keys to them, but as they were
all alike they were not of much use, and Harris advised him to keep his
valuables in his trunk. There was a looking-glass on the chimney-piece.
Harris showed Philip the lavatory, which was a fairly large room with
eight basins in a row, and here all the inmates did their washing. It led
into another room in which were two baths, discoloured, the woodwork
stained with soap; and in them were dark rings at various intervals which
indicated the water marks of different baths.

When Harris and Philip went back to their bed-room they found a tall man
changing his clothes and a boy of sixteen whistling as loud as he could
while he brushed his hair. In a minute or two without saying a word to
anybody the tall man went out. Harris winked at the boy, and the boy,
whistling still, winked back. Harris told Philip that the man was called
Prior; he had been in the army and now served in the silks; he kept pretty
much to himself, and he went off every night, just like that, without so
much as a good-evening, to see his girl. Harris went out too, and only the
boy remained to watch Philip curiously while he unpacked his things. His
name was Bell and he was serving his time for nothing in the haberdashery.
He was much interested in Philip's evening clothes. He told him about the
other men in the room and asked him every sort of question about himself.
He was a cheerful youth, and in the intervals of conversation sang in a
half-broken voice snatches of