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DaraUpon enquiring in Fort Street of Ma Bustin's abode, I was directed to a basement room in one of the hovels which composed the street at that time. Descending the rickety wooden steps to the basement I knocked repeatedly on the door without receiving any reply. Angry at wasting my time on a fruitless errand, I kicked at the door and, to my astonishment, it flew open. I stepped cautiously inside and, as my eyes became accustomed to the darkened interior, I saw a wizened old woman lying on a makeshift bed holding to her bosom half a bottle of gin. Ma Bustin I presumed. My deliberate coughing had no effect on her slumbers, so I picked up an empty pan and brought it down on the wooden table with a loud bang which immediately brought the old woman to her senses. She set up such a fearful squawking that it was a wonder the neighbours didn't come rushing to her aid. She calmed down somewhat on seeing that the intruder was a mere girl. Coughing and spluttering between sips of gin from the bottle she rose from the bed. Focusing her eyes on me in the dim light, she came right up to me and, looking into my face, mumbled, 'I don't know you ...» |
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