Mattie did not give way to any ebullition of tears; she was a girl with considerable self-command, and only betrayed her agitation by her whiter face. She did all that lay in her power to remedy the great error, leaving Harriet Wesden in charge of the shop whilst she ran down Great Suffolk Street and towards the Borough, hoping to overtake the robber. Straight to Kent Street went Mattie; thieves would be sure to make for Kent Street—all the years of her honest life faded away like a dream, and she ran at once to the house of a receiver of stolen goods, a house that she had known herself in the old guilty past.
Her hand was on the latch of the door, when a policeman touched her on the arm,
"Do you want anything here?"
"I've been robbed of a large parcel—I thought they must have brought it here."
"Why here?"
"This is Simes's—this used to be Simes's—surely."
"Yes, and it's Simes's still; but nobody's been here with a parcel. You haven't been and left nobody in Mr. Wesden's shop?" was his inelegant query.
Mattie did not remark that the policeman knew her then; she was too excited by her loss.
"Mr. Wesden's daughter's there."
"Then you had better come round to the police-station, and state your loss, Miss."