Lavinia remembered this and hoped for the best. At such a time Mrs.
Fenton with her love of pleasure would hardly stay at home.
Lavinia hurried past grim Newgate and crossed the road. The coffee house
was on the other side. Hannah was standing in the doorway in a cruciform
attitude, her arms stretched out, each hand grasping the frame on either
side. She was gossipping with a man and laughing heartily. Lavinia
decided that her mother must be out. If at home she would never allow
Hannah this liberty. Lavinia glided to the woman and touched one of the
outstretched hands. Hannah gave a little "squark" when she felt the
girl's cold fingers.
"It's only me Hannah," whispered Lavinia.
"Only me--an' who's me?... Bless us an' save us child, what do you go
about like a churchyard ghost for? Where in 'eaven's name have ye sprung
from? I never come across anybody like you, Miss Lavvy, for a worryin'
other people. I've been a-crying my eyes out over ye."
"And mother, has she been crying too?"
"Your mother? Not she," returned Hannah with a sniff of contempt. "Catch
her a-cryin' over anything 'cept when she hasn't won a prize in a
lottery. But come you in. I've ever so much to tell you. You'd best be
off Reuben. I'll see you later."
Reuben who was one of the men employed at Coupland's soap works in the
Old Bailey, looked a little disappointed, but he obeyed nevertheless.
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