Owen Oliver, Parson Smith (1908)
“ He passed down dark alleys and ill-lit passages till he reached some squalid cottages backing upon the banks of the torpid, unsavoury canal. He knocked at a door, and entered without waiting for an answer. A meagre little woman stood in the passage, twisting her apron in her bony hands. She had evidently been crying. “Well, Mrs. Jones?” he asked. “He can't get away,” she said. “He's run back here. The police are coming. Oh, sir! can't you save him? He never meant to do it, sir; but the children were hungry. Oh, sir! you never had children?” ”
