Harry followed him back to the court the man had just left. It was very narrow, with four two-storey houses on each side of a grimy footpath. The agent selected a key from a ring of others and strode up three steps to a front door and put the key in the lock, indicating to Harry to follow. Harry noticed that to the side of the steps a cellar window showed below the path, and pondered that although it might be rather dark it would be a useful area for storage.

The agent showed him into an empty room facing the street. ‘It’s just one room,’ he was told. ‘Other room is upstairs, but that’s already let. Privy’s at ’top of ’court – to share.’

‘Share wi’ how many?’

‘Just eight houses; ’folk at ’other side have their own privy.’

‘What do you mean?’ Harry frowned. ‘Other side of where?’

The agent looked at Harry as if he were a halfwit. ‘Other side o’ court. They’re back to back.’

Harry shook his head. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Just come from ’country, haven’t you?’ the man commented. ‘There’s another court at ’back of these. Houses are joined together. Come on, I’ll show you.’

He suddenly seemed galvanized into action, and led Harry out of the house. Locking the door behind him, he trotted down the steps and along the street for a few yards before turning left into a narrow alley, where he turned left again into another very small court with identical two-storey housing.

Except, Harry fingered his beard, it wasn’t. These were, in fact, three-storey houses with one level below ground. Three steps led up to the doors and below the steps were small windows to let in a minimum of light.

‘Can I have a look?’ he asked, curiosity getting the better of him, even though he had no intention of renting one.

‘I’ve onny got a basement room left; I didn’t think you’d want it,’ the rent man told him but opened the door anyway and led the way in and down another short flight of stairs at the bottom of which he unlocked a second door.

Harry wrinkled his nose; it was dark, and smelt of damp and sewage and stale air. There were two small windows, one facing the back court, the other facing the street they had just left, and he wondered how anyone could possibly live in such a place and survive.

‘No, thanks,’ he said. ‘It’s not suitable.’

‘Nah.’ The agent turned away. ‘You wouldn’t keep a dog, Irish or Jews in here, would you?’ He considered for a moment. ‘I’ve got just one more that might do. It’s a bit further up ’riverbank towards Church Street. Where is it you’re working?’

‘Tannerson’s mill.’