We took our leave without more ado.
'What a lady-like woman to be the matron of an asylum!' I said.
Falconer gave a little laugh.
'That is no asylum. It is a private house.'
'And the lady?'
'Is a lady of private means,' he answered, 'who prefers Bloomsbury to Belgravia, because it is easier to do noble work in it. Her heaven is on the confines of hell.'
'What will she do with those children?'
'Kiss them and wash them and put them to bed.'
'And after that?'
'Give them bread and milk in the morning.'