Esther slept with the baby, a little boy of five; the two big
boys slept at the other end of the room by the front door. The eldest was
about fifteen, but he was only half-witted; and he helped in the
housework, and could turn down the beds and see quicker than any one if
the occupant had stolen sheet or blanket. Esther always remembered how he
would raise himself up in bed in the early morning, rub the glass, and
light a candle so that he could be seen from below. He shook his head if
every bed was occupied, or signed with his fingers the prices of the beds
if they had any to let.
The landlord was a tall, thin man, with long features and hair turning
grey. He was very quiet, and Esther was surprised one night at the
abruptness with which he stopped a couple who were going upstairs.
"Is that your wife?" he said.
"Yes, she's my wife all right."
"She don't look very old."
"She's older than she looks."
Then he said, half to Esther, half to his housekeeper, that it was hard to
know what to do. If you asked them for their marriage certificates they'd
be sure to show you something. The housekeeper answered that they paid
well, and that was the principal thing. But when an attempt was made to
steal the bedclothes the landlord and his housekeeper were more severe. As
Esther was about to let a most respectable woman out of the front door,
the idiot boy called down the stairs, "Stop her! There's a sheet missing.
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