I did not know what I was saying. Infested by every description of vagabond and miscreant, it was, perhaps, a few degrees worse than the rookery near Saint Giles's and the desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill in our own time. A medley of motives warred in her, and it was certainly not one of the least of these that she knew herself to be passionately in love with Capes; at moments she had a giddy intimation that he was beginning to feel keenly interested in her. "Well," she said, as they reached the hotel portal, "what is your advice?" "Would you follow it?" "Probably not. “May I be allowed to say,” he declared, “that I came here with the same intention. Well, it had to happen somewhen.
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