The corn gave no sign, and she thought with satisfaction of her new companion, Miss Perkins.
For years she had searched high and low for some penniless woman to share her cottage and Jonah's allowance, and her pensioners had gone out of their way to invent new methods of robbing her.

But Miss Perkins (whom she had found shivering and hungry on the doorstep as she was going to bed one night and had taken in without asking questions, as was her habit) guarded Mrs Yabsley's property like a watchdog.

For Cardigan Street, when it learned that Mrs Yabsley only worked for the fun of the thing, had leaped to the conclusion that she was rolling in money.

They knew that she had given Jonah his start in life, and felt certain that she owned half of the Silver Shoe.
So the older residents had come to look on Mrs Yabsley as their property, and they formed a sort of club to sponge on her methodically.
They ran out of tea, sugar and flour, and kept the landlord waiting while they ran up to borrow a shilling.

They each had their own day, and kept to it, respecting the rights of their friends to a share of the plunder.