"
I went out and fetched a cab, and assisted her into it. Then I asked her
where the man should drive, and she gave me the name of the street which
Miss Blake, when in England, honoured by making her abode. Miss Blake's
number was 110. My charmer's number was 15. Having obtained this
information, I closed the cab-door, and taking my seat beside the
driver, we rattled off in the direction of Brunswick Square.
Arrived at the house, I helped her--when, in answer to my knock, an
elderly woman appeared, to ask my business--into the narrow hall of a
dreary house. Oh! how my heart ached when I beheld her surroundings! She
did not bid me good-bye; but asking me into the parlour, went, as I
understood, to get money to pay the cabman.
Seizing my opportunity, I told the woman, who still stood near the door,
that I was in a hurry, and leaving the house, bade the driver take me to
the top of Chancery Lane.
On the next Sunday I watched No. 15, till I beheld my lady-fair come
forth, veiled, furred, dressed all in her dainty best, prayer-book in
hand, going alone to St. Pancras Church--not the old, but the
new--whither I followed her.
By some freak of fortune, the verger put me into the same pew as that in
which he had just placed her.
When she saw me her face flushed crimson, and then she gave a little
smile of recognition.
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