'Full two hours ago!'

'But what am I to do?'

'I don't know what you're to do!'

'Which is the next nearest workhouse?'

'Kensington.'

Suddenly opening the door, as he answered me, putting out his arm
he thrust me backwards. Before I could recover the door was
closed. The man in rags had continued a grim spectator of the
scene. Now he spoke.

'Nice bloke, ain't he?'

'He's only one of the paupers,--has he any right to act as one of
the officials?'

'I tell yer some of them paupers is wuss than the orficers,--a
long sight wuss! They thinks they owns the 'ouses, blimey they do.
Oh it's a----fine world, this is!'

He paused. I hesitated. For some time there had been a suspicion
of rain in the air. Now it was commencing to fall in a fine but
soaking drizzle. It only needed that to fill my cup to
overflowing. My companion was regarding me with a sort of sullen
curiosity.