A sudden thought came to the journalist.
"Do you know, nurse," he said, "I think I am one of the few men in London who can give you just what you ask at this moment; that is, if you don't mind doing something slightly unconventional?"
"Oh, convention!" she answered, with the serene smile of the high-natured woman for whom the world has no terrors.
Hampson explained where he was bound when he left the hospital, and for what purpose. There would be no difficulty in the matter at all, if Mary cared to accompany him to the roof of the cathedral. It was certain, also, that the dome would rise high above the low belt of fog which was stifling London.
Mary had three hours at her own disposal. In ten minutes they were driving to the great church.
When they had ascended to the roof of St. Paul's they found the fog was not so dense. The sun was setting over the modern Babylon.
Hampson pointed down at the nether gloom.
"Vanity Fair!" he said. "Vanity Fair! What would Jesus Christ say to London if He came to it now?"
As he spoke the breeze suddenly freshened, the fog clouds took new shapes, the light of the western sun grew in the dark.
And then a thing happened that set their hearts beating furiously.