Fallen women, as they are called, seldom resent
being cheated by those in whose houses they live. Rather do they expect
the bleeding process as part of the penalty to be paid for a lost
character. The landlord of the leper is owed, for his charity and
tolerance, good hard cash. The landlady of the Pariah puts down mentally
in each added-up bill this item: "To loss of character--so much." And the
Pariah understands and pays. Such is the recognized dispensation. Mrs.
Brigg had had a fine time of robbery during the stay of Cuckoo in her
ugly house, and, in consequence, a certain queer and slow respect for
her lodger had very gradually grown up in her withered and gnarled old
nature. She had that feeling towards Cuckoo that a bad boy, too weak
to steal apples, has towards a bad boy not too weak to steal them. It
could hardly be called an actual liking. Of that the old creature in
her nethermost Hades was nearly incapable. But she enjoyed seeing apples
off the tree lying in her kitchen, and so could have patted any hands
that had gathered them nefariously. So far as she looked into the future
she saw there always Cuckoo, and herself robbing Cuckoo comfortably,
faithfully, unblamed and unrepentant, while the years rolled along,
the leech ever at its sucking profession.
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