The landlady was inexorable, so we had to submit.
Jack took me a long stroll through the London streets that evening, entertaining me with a description of his life as a grocer's shop-boy, now happily at an end.

I forbore to ask him any questions on the mysterious subject of his home, and he of course never referred to it.
Our walk ended again at Beadle Square, where we parted for the night; he to return to some poor lodging in a distant part of the town, I to take part in the nine o'clock supper at Mrs Nash's.
I was rather nervous as I approached the parlour where were congregated my fellow-lodgers, and heard the sound of their noisy voices and laughter.

I half repented that I had committed myself to sup on the premises; it would have been so much less embarrassing to slip in just at ten o'clock and go straight to bed.

However, I was in for it now.
I opened the door and entered the room.

The parlour was full of boys-- two dozen or more--of all ages, and engaged in all sorts of occupations.
Some lounged lazily in front of the fireplace, some were indulging in rough horse-play in the corners, some were reading novels, some were writing, some were talking, some were laughing.
As I entered, however, everybody suddenly ceased his occupation and stared at me--everybody, that is, except the small group who were skirmishing in the corner nearest the door.