He knew it was unnerving, he did it to everyone, even his own kin. Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there. But beyond "amicable agreement in which mutual concessions are made," the word "compromise" was as blank as the Canton wall at night. As he looked around, he beheld an incessant stream of passengers hurrying on below. And empty. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. Casting a hasty glance at the old and ruinous prison belonging to the liberty of the Bishop of Winchester (whose palace formerly adjoined the river), called the Clink, which gave its name to the street, along which he walked: and noticing, with some uneasiness, the melancholy manner in which the wind whistled through its barred casements, the carpenter followed his companion down an opening to the right, and presently arrived at the water-side.
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