Nancy  was  still  sitting  as  the  cabman  had  left
her  under  the  arch,  holding  the  senseless  woman
in  her  arms,  but  now  she  was  rocking  the  limp
form  to  and  fro  as  one  might  rock  a  restless
babe,  and  crooning  out  an  old  cradle-song  in
her  shrill,  cracked  treble.  The  policeman
picked  up  the  lantern,  and  turned  its  light  full
on  the  fixed  white  face  that  stared  up  at  them
from  Nancy's  shoulder  out  of  a  mass  of  dis-
ordered grey  hair.
There  was  a  moment's  breathless  silence,
then  the  hand  holding  the  lantern  dropped
to  his  side.  "  Dead  as  a  door  nail,"  he  said
emphatically  to  his  companion.  ''  It's  a  case
for  the  coroner,  not  for  you  or  me."


■k


iS6  A  SLUM  TRAGEDY

At  the  sound  of  his  voice  the  old  woman
broke  off  her  song  abruptly,  and  putting  up
an  admonishing  finger,  shook  it  at  the  speaker.
"  Whisht  with  your  talk  !  "  she  commanded
sharply.  ''  Ye'U  wake  the  child,  and  she  not
well  too.  There  !  There  !  Sleep,  alannah  !
Sleep  !  "

And  again  she  fell  to  rocking  and  soothing
the  dead  woman,  murmuring  tender  mother-
words  into  the  ears  that  could  not  hear.
The  two  men  looked  on  helplessly,  unable
to  utter  a  word.  After  a  short  interval  the  old
woman  glanced  up  at  them  and  smiled.
