” She felt strange confessing herself to a criminal attorney. We already had a place to mislay blame. “For luck. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. He is at present with Mr. Most people, every one I know else, seem to have mated with foreigners and to talk uneasily in unfamiliar tongues, to be afraid of the knowledge the other one has, of the other one’s perpetual misjudgment and misunderstandings. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard.
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