" She sent a covert glance toward the young man. “Too bad to keep you waiting,” Annabel exclaimed. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. ” She implored him. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street.
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