Gi' us one!" Already she was feeling for the old, squashed, black leather purse.
"Well, what'll you give your gran ?" He gave a shy little laugh and pressed closer.

She felt his eyelid quivering against her cheek.

"I ain't got nothing," he murmured...
The old woman sprang up, seized the iron kettle off the gas stove and took it over to the sink.

The noise of the water drumming in the kettle deadened her pain, it seemed.

She filled the pail, too, and the washing-up bowl.
It would take a whole book to describe the state of that kitchen.