She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. The coachman answered by a surly grunt, and, plying his whip with redoubled zeal, shaped his course down Dyot Street; traversed that part of Holborn, which is now called Broad Street, and where two ancient alms-houses were, then, standing in the middle of that great thoroughfare, exactly opposite the opening of Compston Street; and, diving under a wide gateway on the left, soon reached a more open space, surrounded by mean habitations, coach-houses and stables, called Kendrick Yard, at the further end of which Saint Giles's round-house was situated. He glanced up at Roding and met his eyes. This is the way the old thief brings in all his heavy plunder, which he stows in out-of-the-way holes in his infernal dwelling. “So Brendon and I,” he said, “have been troubled with the same fears. But what he could do or might do she could not imagine. The funeral, it has just been said, took place on that day.
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