At last, a little way to the northward of Euston Road, the moral cloud seemed to lift, the moral atmosphere to change; clean blinds appeared in the windows, clean doorsteps before the doors, a different appeal in the neatly placed cards bearing the word ————————————— | APARTMENTS ————————————— | in the clear bright windows. Unconscious that his movements were watched, Shotbolt, meanwhile, hastened towards Wych Street. "I am here, you see," said the smith. She could not help herself. The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared.
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