" "What is it?" asked Thames. Take care of the old clothesman, and leave the rest to me. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. Bah! She does not know me very well, and you—not at all. The three clerks fought for the only window, and saw her whisked into a hansom. “But I wish,” she said, “I had some idea what I was really up to.
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