“Ah—so I think you told me.”
The cab now suddenly wheeled to the right, and went through a labyrinth of dark and wretched streets, in which nothing could be seen except a few shops full of rags and bones, and placards offering a farthing a pound for the bones, and a penny for the rags.
The cab stopped at the corner, and the driver came round and opened the door.
“Will you get out here,” said he, addressing himself to the young lady, “or shall I drive further on?”
“I think this will be near enough for my purpose,” she answered. “We are close to Little Mint-street?”
“Yes—quite close.”
“Good, then, we’ll alight;” and, springing out, the lady walked down the street with the assurance of one who was well acquainted with the locality.
Alf followed his mistress. He did not know what was about to happen, but had some misgivings.
For the locality he had no predilection, for his early experience of it had taught him that it was a place to be avoided; but, situated as he was, he had no other alternative left than to merely submit to the dictates of his patroness.
After a few minutes he heard a whistle and the rumbling of a train. He started, and said—