About many of these houses hung a mysterious taint as of something weakly and commonly and dustily evil; the women who negotiated the rooms looked out through a friendly manner as though it was a mask, with hard, defiant eyes. Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. “My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. “Leave them!” He yelled. It was not without considerable demur and delay on the part of Sharples that the carpenter and his companion could gain admittance to the round-house. Then he sensed the trap. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink.
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