The office is a sight—not one sheet of paper on another; bills and receipts everywhere. A vast indifference settled down upon him. He had more time for her. But no; she must step warily. She was certain he would hear, sleeping in the nearby castle. Mrs. Treasure caves to explore! All through these trying days she had recurrently wondered what this strange young man would have to say that Dickens and Hugo had not already said. The crash was tremendous. He had been reading Belfort Bax, and declared himself a convert. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food.
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