It had felt wonderful to pick up the fiddle again. He appeared suddenly from the infinite in the neighborhood of the Burlington Arcade, crossing the pavement toward her and with his eyes upon her. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. "Yes. Besides ——” She stopped short. By various twistings and turnings, during all which time his pursuers, who were greatly increased in numbers, kept him in view, he reached Gray's-Inn-lane. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. The clock struck half-past ten.
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