Gerard looked, and a woman in the corner was beckoning him.

He went towards her gingerly, being surprised and irresolute, so that to a spectator her beckoning finger seemed to be pulling him across the floor with a gut-line.

When he had got up to her, "Hold the child," said she, in a fine hearty voice; and in a moment she plumped the bairn into Gerard's arms.
He stood transfixed, jelly of lead in his hands, and sudden horror in his elongated countenance.
At this ruefully expressive face, the lynx-eyed conclave laughed loud and long.
"Never heed them," said the woman cheerfully; "they know no better; how should they, bred an' born in a wood ?" She was rummaging among her clothes with the two penetrating hands, one of which Gerard had set free.

Presently she fished out a small tin plate and a dried pudding; and resuming her child with one arm, held them forth to Gerard with the other, keeping a thumb on the pudding to prevent it from slipping off.
"Put it in the stove," said she; "you are too young to lie down fasting." Gerard thanked her warmly.

But on his way to the stove, his eye fell on the landlady.