The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. They looked out over the city, grim and silent now, for it was long past midnight. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. He would know her address to-morrow. Do you remember what I said when you took me at the Mint four days ago? I told you my turn would come. In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. ‘Do you think I would do to him as he made a threat to do to me? No.
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