He turned away at last from the trembling, nerveless figure of the seamstress, and went to the window.

Two pale hyacinth plants stood on the inner edge; their perfume penetrated through the other savours of the room--and very strange they looked, those twin, starved children of the light and air.
"These are new," he said.
"Yes, sir," murmured Mrs.Hughs.

"I brought them upstairs.

I didn't like to see the poor things left to die." From the bitter accent of these words Martin understood that they had been the little model's.
"Put them outside," he said; "they'll never live in here.

They want watering, too.