The Dark Eyes of London by Edgar Wallace

-"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said Blind Jake, shaking his huge head.

He sat huddled up at one side of the tubular room, and his remarks were addressed to a wretched-looking woman who sat on the other side, her arms folded on her knees, her head bent in dejection. She was miserably clad; her hanging hair was streaked with grey, and her hands and face were grimy.