The man, who was just able to move, pointed towards Giltspur-street. ‘How did you guess?’ ‘I guessed as soon as you said this was your house. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. ‘But for now, I’m taking you home. A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat. All the events of the previous day rushed to his recollection; and though he had been unintentionally the cause of his mother's death, he reproached himself as severely as if he had been her actual murderer. That was life.
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