Which she understood well enough when, all the day, she--grown painfully wise, poor girl!--watched a Jewish-looking man hanging about the house, and noticing every body that went in or out of it.
Now, sitting at Miss Leaf's window, she fancied she saw this man disappear into the gin-palace opposite, and at the same moment a figure darted hurriedly round the street corner, and into the door of No.15.Elizabeth looked to see if her mistress were asleep, and then crept quietly out of the room, shutting the door after her.
Listening, she heard the sound of the latch-key, and of some one coming stealthily up stairs.
"Hollo!--Oh, it's only you, Elizabeth." "Shall I light your candle, sir ?" But when she did the sight was not pleasant.

Drenched with rain, his collar pulled up, and his hat slouched, so as in some measure to act as a disguise, breathless and trembling--hardly any body would have recognized in this discreditable object that gentlemanly young man, Mr.Ascott Leaf.
He staggered into his room and threw himself across the bed.
"Do you want anything, Sir ?" said Elizabeth, from the door.
"No--yes--stay a minute.

Elizabeth, are you to be trusted ?" "I hope I am, Sir." "The bailiffs are after me.

I've just dodged them.

If they know I'm here the game's all up--and it will kill my aunt." Shocked as she was, Elizabeth was glad to hear him say that--glad to see the burst of real emotion with which he flung himself down on the pillow, muttering all sorts of hopeless self-accusations.
"Come, Sir, 'tis no use taking on so," said she, much as she would have spoken to a child, for there was something childish rather than man like in Ascott's distress.