The parlour was cluttered but cosy. Nothing, however, could be discerned, except the crumbling brickwork. "I repeat," said Ah Cum, "that the venture is not propitious. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. "What is this?" she wanted to know.
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