For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream. “Number 13, please, cabman. ’ She waved towards a handy table to one side which was piled high with so many volumes, it looked in imminent danger of crashing to the floor. I know how bad it feels. The prostitute’s attack was predictable, typical. I offer you my assistance on certain terms. Then a handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from singing; it was her favourite canary. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. Why did he take me?’ Martha’s damp eyes were puzzled.
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