And the gleaming ring on the scrubby
small finger! On that hand most assuredly Pennyloaf would wear no
glove. How proud she was of her ring! How she turned it round and
round when nobody was looking! Gold, Penny. loaf, real gold! The
pawnbroker would lend her seven-and-sixpence on it, any time.
At Holborn Viaduct there was a perpetual rush of people for the
trains to the 'Paliss.' As soon as a train was full, off it went,
and another long string of empty carriages drew up in its place. No
distinction between 'classes' to-day; get in where you like, where
you can. Positively, Pennyloaf found herself seated in a first-class
carriage; she would have been awe-struck, but that Bob flung himself
back on the cushions with such an easy air, and nodded laughingly at
her. Among their companions was a youth with a concertina; as soon
as the train moved he burst into melody. It was the natural
invitation to song, and all joined in the latest ditties learnt at
the music-hall. Away they sped, over the roofs of South London,
about them the universal glare of sunlight, the carriage dense with
tobacco-smoke. Ho for the bottle of muddy ale, passed round in
genial fellowship from mouth to mouth! Pennyloaf would not drink of
it; she had a dread of all such bottles.
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