Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants. He never asked questions; he never addressed his companions; and frequently he took off his cap and wiped his forehead. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. ‘The nuns, they teach prayer and obedience. . ‘Woof!’ uttered Trodger, gazing at the lady in some awe. ” “Does she have to sell her soul to the Devil?” Lucy asked, feeling stupid. Jack was so harrassed that he felt half inclined to stand at bay. 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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