She climbed them slowly, feeling for safety with her feet, and descended with her heart in her mouth.

The sight of others tripping lightly up and down impressed her like a dangerous performance on the tight-rope in a circus.

And the new rooms could only be reached by two staircases, one at the far end of the shop, winding like a corkscrew to the upper floor, and another, sickening to the eye, dropping from the rear balcony in the open air to the kitchen and the yard.
Mrs Yabsley continued to live in the old cottage in Cardigan Street.
Jonah made her an allowance, but she still worked at the laundry, not for a living, as she carefully explained to every new customer, but for the sake of exercise.

And she had obstinately refused to be pensioned off.
"I've seen too many of them pensioners, creepin' an' coughin' along the street, because they thought they was too old fer work, an' one fine mornin' they fergit ter come down ter breakfust, an' the neighbours are invited to the funeral.

An' but for that they might 'ave lived fer years, drawin' their money an' standin' in the way of younger men.